


And the Galaxy is Open

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Carol Preston's A+ Parenting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas fic, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Maria Flynn is a Fucking Badass, Multi, Pining Idiots, Slow Burn, They Dragged This Out Forever Like the Fools They Are, eventual polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: The mostly-accidental courtship of Lucy Preston by one Garcia Flynn and Wyatt Logan, as told mainly through the Christmases they spend together.
Relationships: Asher Flynn/Maria Tompkins, Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan, Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan/Lucy Preston, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 59





	And the Galaxy is Open

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I See the Stars in You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549106) by [letmetellyouaboutmyfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels). 



> This work is a sequel to "I See The Stars in You" so you might want to read that first.

Wyatt missed Flynn.

He knew that he’d spent a lot of time with Flynn, sure, but it hadn’t quite sunk in how they spent almost every waking moment together until Flynn was off at college. Hell, for the last couple years he’d even been sleeping in the same bed, all tangled up with Flynn, hearing Flynn’s heartbeat under his ear, feeling the rise and fall of Flynn’s chest against him. Now he could barely get to sleep on his own.

He felt stupid as fuck for it. Who called their boyfriend and said, _hey, can I just hold the phone to my ear and listen to you breathe as I fall asleep?_ Flynn was off having adventures, going to Stanford of all places, having wonderful once in a lifetime experiences. Wyatt wasn’t going to rain on that by being the boyfriend who pouted constantly about being left behind.

And it wasn’t permanent. Flynn would be home for Christmas break. Stanford was on the quarter system so he’d be home by the second week of December and could stay for a whole month. He’d have summer breaks. And after four years…

Who knew? Maybe Wyatt would be able to move up to Northern California with him in a couple years. He just needed to get his certificate from his vocational education program, then get certified in all eight automotive specialty areas to become a Master Mechanic.

It sounded a lot fancier than it was, if you asked Wyatt.

So it really wasn’t going to be forever, but it sure felt like forever, and he wanted to see him. Desperately.

Of course, he couldn’t, so they just had phone calls.

“Hey, big man on campus.” Wyatt flopped onto the bed, phone pressed to his ear. “How’s it going?”

“Orientation was fine, lots of stupid get to know you type things. But my classes are fun and I like my roommate. His name’s Rufus, he wants to get his undergrad here before he goes to MIT.”

“A science kid? Isn’t that kind of the opposite of you?”

“Yeah, but y’know what they say, opposites attract. Just look at us.”

“Hey, don’t go throwing me over for your roommate.”

“Never.” Flynn’s voice got all soft and Wyatt’s throat went tight. He wanted to curl up with Flynn so badly it was a physical ache. “It’s hard to fall asleep. The bed’s too empty.”

“I’ve seen your college bed. It’s so small your feet fall off the end.”

“Still too empty.”

Wyatt pressed his face into the pillow. It had smelled like Flynn at first, but that scent got staler every day. “Tell me about your classes.” He didn’t want to think about how much they missed each other, about how much he needed Flynn, how his whole life had been defined by Flynn’s larger-than-life presence.

Flynn started going on and on about his history classes, his professors, this one classmate who was always challenging him and how he was starting to really consider her a friend, and Wyatt just pressed the phone to his ear and closed his eyes, pretending Flynn was right there with him.

* * *

The moment Flynn saw Lucy Preston, he felt like he’d been hit by a speeding truck.

She was sitting right at the front, which was also where Flynn chose to sit, because he was a chronic overachiever and needed room to spread his legs out and, oh yes, how else could he properly sass whoever his professor was if he was all the way in the back?

And she was radiant. Not just beautiful, but _radiant_. She was scribbling in a journal, her dark hair pulled loosely back, wearing a blazer and with this soft smile on her face and she just looked like… like… like sunshine.

Flynn had never been the fall instantly type of person. He hadn’t even realized for years that he was in love with Wyatt. And he wouldn’t say this was falling, exactly. It was more like realizing on some level that this person had the potential to be special to him.

He ended up sitting next to her, feeling shy and clumsy for the first time in years. This wasn’t how he’d been with Wyatt. With Wyatt he had been adversarial, challenging, poking and prodding. Part of that was probably due to being a kid with no clue what was going on in his brain for so long, no idea that he was falling in love with his best friend. Part of it was just that was how he and Wyatt were together.

But Lucy—he wanted to impress her. And he felt stupid for it. But when she’d give her ideas, showed how bright and well-read she was, he countered with ideas of his own. Tried to spar with her. And Lucy always met his challenge, sharp-eyed, never holding back in her remarks. They turned every history class into a dueling ground. He’d never been so intellectually stimulated before, had never found someone who matched him in that way, toe to toe, witty and educated.

It was addicting.

He wasn’t sure what to call it, but Lucy Preston was… she was special. She was… she was just really neat. He thought she was neat.

* * *

“I’m going to kill my classmate,” Lucy announced as she plopped down into her seat.

She wasn’t always sure how ‘lucky’ she was that Mom worked at Stanford, in the same department as Lucy’s major, no less, but it did mean that she was near home and could see her little sister often.

There were seven years of age difference between Lucy and Amy, but Amy, although only eleven, was precocious as they came and they’d always been close. Today they were getting lunch together in between some of Lucy’s classes.

“Who?” Amy asked, grinning with delight. She loved hearing about all the college gossip, although Lucy obviously censored some of it because, well, Amy was eleven.

“This one guy,” Lucy groaned. “He’s the smartest guy in class and he _knows_ it, and he never lets me live. Would it kill him to stop challenging me on every single thing I say? I’m sorry I don’t have a citation for everything! I’m sorry that not all of us have our arguments conveniently marked in the book with post-its of different colors that have some kind of important meaning that only you can decipher! I’m sorry that not everyone speaks three languages and read that translation in the original German, you pretentious son of a…” Lucy realized to whom she was speaking and switched tracks. “…biscuit eater.”

“You can say bitch. I know the word.”

“Please do not let Mom know that you know that word.”

Amy made a zipping motion across her lips and mimed throwing away the key. “So he’s always talking to you?”

“Ugh, yeah, he sits next to me. I swear someday I’m going to just reach across the aisle and strangle him.”

“And he starts these debates?”

“Yeah, our poor professor can hardly get through a lecture because we go off on these tangents.”

“And he only talks to you? He doesn’t start it with anyone else?”

Lucy snorted. “I’d like to see anyone else try. He shuts them down so fast, it’s kind of hilarious actually because there’s this one guy who… never mind. Yes, I guess so? Maybe he feels I’m the only one who’s close enough to being his intellectual equal.” She did air quotes for the last two words.

Amy looked oddly thoughtful. “I think he likes you.”

“What!?” She had never heard anything so ludicrous in her life. And why was her face heating up? “He doesn’t like me. Garcia Flynn doesn’t like anyone. Except for his boyfriend back home, whoever he is. He won’t shut up about the guy, it’s the only thing he talks about besides history. _Wyatt’s so good with his hands, Wyatt speaks fluent German, Wyatt’s so funny,_ Wyatt, Wyatt, Wyatt.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “I should mail the guy a medal for putting up with the terror that is Garcia fucking Flynn.” She paused. “Don’t let Mom know you know that word, either.”

Amy shrugged. “I still think he likes you.”

“He has a boyfriend.”

“So?” Amy skimmed the menu. “I want to marry Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston. I think I would make an excellent addition to their life.”

“You are eleven, you are not marrying anyone anytime soon. And Flynn does not like me.”

“Well that’s good.” Amy smiled. “Because you don’t like him.”

“You’re right,” Lucy said. “I don’t.”

And she didn’t. She hated Flynn. She hated him very, very, very much.

* * *

“Wyatt? Wyatt, are you listening to me?”

“Hmmm?” Wyatt hummed, his eyes closed. “Yeah, I’m listening.”

“You don’t sound like it.” Flynn sounded amused.

“Your voice is soothing,” Wyatt admitted. “What can I say?”

He idly toyed with the button of his jeans, staring up at the ceiling. It had been two months. Autumn was here. And the house still felt too empty. He hadn’t realized how quiet it would be without Flynn here. Neither Maria nor Asher were people that you could call wallflowers, but they weren’t the ball of coiled energy that Flynn was.

“I miss you.” He said it a lot, but it never changed. He felt it all the time. He’d been scared that he would start to forget Flynn, that how they felt would fade and change and they wouldn’t care about each other as much anymore. But instead it just got worse. He just missed Flynn more. “I’m just… lying here on the bed and I feel like an idiot because I want you here.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Flynn assured him. “I miss you too. I wish you could come up here and visit. You could meet my roommate, and Lucy, you’d love Lucy.”

Wyatt wasn’t sure what to make of Lucy, the way that Flynn spoke about her. It was odd. He’d never heard Flynn talk about anyone the way that he talked about Lucy. He’d be a bit worried, except that Flynn loved him, and Wyatt knew that. He could hear the ache in Flynn’s voice when they spoke, an ache that echoed the feeling in Wyatt’s chest. It wasn’t that he feared Flynn would leave him. It was just… odd. And he didn’t know how to bring it up.

“I’m sure I would,” he said instead. “I’m sorry I dozed off a little, tell me about your project.”

Flynn started talking again, his voice warm and familiar in Wyatt’s ear, talking low, quiet, just like he would when they’d lay in bed late at night or out on their hill under the stars. It was also how Flynn spoke in his ear when they’d be tangled up together, hot and sweaty, telling him all the things Flynn wanted to do to him… all the things they hadn’t yet done…

Wyatt swallowed, he throat getting a bit dry, and he undid the button on his jeans. Flynn kept droning on, and Wyatt stopped listening to Flynn’s words and instead just listened to his voice, imagined Flynn was right there with him, that it was his hand sliding down Wyatt’s zipper and getting inside Wyatt’s pants…

“Your breathing changed,” Flynn noted. Fuck, Wyatt had forgotten that his boyfriend was an observant motherfucker. “You okay?”

“Great,” Wyatt replied. It truly showed what a lack of self-preservation he had that he continued to softly rub his cock through his underwear even as Flynn turned suspicious. “Peachy. Keep talking.”

“What was I talking about?”

…fuck. “Um…”

“Wyatt, are you—are you _masturbating_ while I’m talking to you?”

“If I say yes, are you gonna get pissy and hang up?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, giving Wyatt plenty of time to feel like an idiot with his hand down his pants lying on his boyfriend’s childhood bed.

He heard rustling, and then Flynn said, his voice deeper now, rougher, “What exactly are you doing?”

Wyatt’s blood spiked with heat. “I’m… I’m touching myself. Through my boxers. I’m still dressed.”

“Mmm, like when I tease you?”

Wyatt’s breath hitched. Yeah, Flynn teased him. He was a bastard that way. “Yes.” He bit his lip as he pulled his cock out, wishing like anything that Flynn was there with him. Not even because he wanted proper sex—although he did, he really wanted that—but because he just wanted Flynn _there_. In _person_.

“Stroke yourself,” Flynn ordered, a growl working its way into his voice, and Wyatt whined a little. “Keep it loose and slow.”

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Wyatt begged. Yeah, he was easy, so what?

“I’m lying on my bed, touching myself, pretending I’m getting ready to fuck you.”

 _Fuck_ that was hot. He knew exactly the kind of look that would be on Flynn’s face, too, the snarky, determined gleam in his eyes. “It’s not the same when I just do it to myself.”

“Y’know San Francisco’s got all these shops, I could find something that would help.”

A thousand possibilities flitted through Wyatt’s mind. He was both elated and terrified by the prospect. “Still won’t be the same.”

“Mmm, but think of all the fun I could make you have, the things I could tell you to do.” He could hear slick, rhythmic noises and just about lost his mind, knowing what Flynn was doing.

“Can I… I wanna…” His grip on his cock was still too loose, not enough to get him to fall off the edge.

“All right, you can go ahead. But don’t hold back those noises for me. You sound so pretty.” Flynn had a natural gift for dirty talk, it seemed, and Wyatt kind of hated him for it because it just wasn’t fair.

At least he, according to Flynn, had a natural gift for begging and pleading, and that was what he did as he tightened his grip on his cock, his thumb rubbing against the head and just beneath it, glad that Maria and Asher weren’t home and he had the house to himself. Wyatt grunted and moaned, his hips shoving up into his hand, the phone slippery against his cheek as sweat slid down from his temple. Flynn’s voice filled his ear, little gasps and encouraging noises, things like, _you sound so desperate_ and _yeah that’s it moan for me_ and he was digging his heels into the mattress and—

“Don’t even think about it,” Flynn said, most likely noticing how Wyatt had just started whining pitifully because Wyatt was predictable when he was about to orgasm. “Not yet.”

Wyatt squeezed the base of his cock and groaned in protest. “You’re a fucking sadist.”

Flynn chuckled. “I just like making you into a mess.”

“I should visit you in the middle of your exams,” Wyatt grumbled. “Distract you so you fail all your tests.”

“That’s some real ego you’ve got there, thinking you’d succeed.”

“That’s because I would.”

“…you would,” Flynn conceded. “But I wouldn’t fail my tests. I’d just have to fuck you until you passed out and then I could study and ace them.”

“You can’t fuck someone until they pass out.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Look it up!”

“I’m gonna! And I’ll be right!”

“Well, I have fucked you so hard you couldn’t move,” Flynn noted, a purr in his voice. Wyatt tentatively stroked himself again, remembering those times, remembering Flynn’s hand warm and strong between his shoulder blades as Flynn had thrust inside of him. “So there is that.”

Wyatt tightened his grip, panting again, each breath filling his lungs with fire. “Are you—”

“Trust me, I’m close.” Flynn’s words slurred a little. Wyatt could hear him, it sounded filthy, and he needed someone to hurry up and invent a way to call people and see them at the same time so that he could watch it happening. “Can’t wait to do that inside you someday.”

They hadn’t done that yet, always using a condom, partially because Maria had lectured them both about safe sex until Wyatt felt like he could list every STD known to man, and partially because it was just less messy with a condom and there were only so many times they could wash the sheets before Asher and Maria started making comments. It was one thing for the people who had as good as raised Wyatt to know that, theoretically, their son and pseudo-son were having sex. It was another thing to have tangible proof of it staring them in the face.

But fuck, he wanted it. It was one of those ‘someday’ things, like Flynn graduating and coming home, getting their own place to live, Wyatt owning his own garage. He chewed on his lip, desperate whines escaping despite his best attempts, the frustration that it was just his hand and not Flynn making him that much more eager to come.

“You sound so good,” Flynn praised him. A flush crept down Wyatt’s neck and chest. He was a sucker for praise, always had been. “You’re gonna sound even better when I’ve got my hands on you again…”

Wyatt moaned helplessly at that, and he heard Flynn grunt hard and come. He’d have given his damn left hand in that moment if it meant he got to watch. His leaking cock jerked, more precome sliding down. “Flynn—Garcia—”

He had grown up calling Flynn by his last name. Flynn had done the same, calling him Logan. Nowadays Flynn called him Wyatt, but Wyatt himself hadn’t quite broken the habit, only calling his boyfriend Garcia when things were really serious—emotionally, sexually, or otherwise.

“Yeah, say my name,” Flynn urged.

“Garcia, Garcia, Garcia,” Wyatt chanted, too far gone to think about getting sassy the way he sometimes did. He was so close and if Flynn told him he couldn’t he’d burst into tears of frustration, he just knew it.

“That’s it.” Flynn’s voice was softer now that he was coming down from his own high. “Let me hear you, come for me, that’s it.”

Wyatt’s toes curled as he spilled all over his hand, groaning, eyes open but unseeing. Shit.

He wanted to kiss Flynn more than he wanted his next breath. Post-sex kissing, all soft and devoted… “Why aren’t you here?” he whined.

“Because the people who founded Stanford University cruelly put it in Northern California,” Flynn replied.

Wyatt’s eyes felt wet. Dammit. Sex always made him loopy and emotional. “I love you.”

“Oh good, I was worried you were just using me for sex.”

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“Too late, I’ve recorded this call.” Flynn sounded so fond, Wyatt wanted to curl up inside his voice and sleep there.

He yawned. He was kind of tired now, actually, all the energy leaving his body with his orgasm.

“You need to nap?” Flynn said.

“Probably. You have another class?”

“Yeah, I need to get going.” He paused. “I love you too.”

Wyatt hated a lot of things. He hated that he had to lie at the mechanic shop and talk about his girlfriend who was off at college rather than his boyfriend. He hated that most people didn’t know he was dating anyone at all. He hated the names that he still so commonly heard people like him and Flynn get called. He hated his father, even though the guy was long dead. He hated himself, sometimes.

But most of all, he hated that he was only eighteen, and couldn’t just spend his life following Flynn to the ends of the earth. Not yet, anyway.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Flynn said. “Go to sleep.”

“Mm. Love you.”

Flynn chuckled and Wyatt hung up before he did something stupid like beg Flynn to talk to him until he fell asleep.

* * *

She didn’t know what she’d expected.

Lucy checked her reflection in the first-floor glass windows of the building as she walked by, making sure nobody could tell she’d been crying. Mom loved her, she knew that, and Mom didn’t want to play favorites in the history department, and she wanted Lucy to be the best that she could be. That was all. It was entirely reasonable. But Lucy still wondered sometimes if it would kill Mom to be just a little nicer, to give her a break every once in a while.

Campus was almost empty as everyone got ready to leave and go home for the holidays. Only the international students were staying—the ones who couldn’t afford to fly home for winter break and had nowhere else to be. She didn’t like it when campus was quiet. It gave her thoughts too much room to grow.

“Lucy!”

Oh, great. Lucy closed her eyes, prayed for patience, and turned around. “Flynn.”

He really was unfairly tall. And did he have to have his dark hair all windswept like that? It was… it got in his face, that was what. Flynn skidded to a halt in front of her, looking annoyingly dashing in his black coat. It might be California but it was in the low 50s and windy. “Hey, I’m glad I caught you.”

“What’s up?” If he was like all the other students begging her to ask her mom for an extension or a gentle grade on their final essays, she’d punch him. Not that she really saw Garcia “I Memorized All the Kings of England” Flynn needing to beg his history professor’s daughter to plead his case for him.

“I know you’re probably staying on campus with your mom, but I thought you might want to, y’know, get away from here for a bit. So I talked with my mom and she said it’s okay, if you want to come home with me for Christmas?”

Lucy’s mouth fell open. “I—what?”

“She always wants to meet my friends,” Flynn said. He was giving her this grin that she would almost call adorable. In fact if she didn’t know Flynn, she’d call it shy.

But she did know Flynn, and Garcia Flynn hated her. Why else was he always picking arguments with her?

“Why!?” Lucy blurted out.

“…why what?” Flynn replied, confusion spreading through his eyes.

“Why would you want me to spend break with you?” _And your boyfriend,_ Lucy found herself thinking, and then wondered why she bothered to tack that onto the end of the sentence in her brain.

“…because we’re friends?” Flynn replied. “You’re my best friend besides my roommate. We always have fun in class together.”

“We have—you call that fun?”

“Well, yes.” Flynn shrugged. “You’re always so smart. You challenge me. We have great discussions.”

Was that what he thought was going on? Had the idiot really not realized that she’d seen his barbs as—as just that? As barbs, rather than friendly banter?

Lucy felt almost sick with dizziness as the whole semester spun sideways and she saw it in a new light. “I… I’m sorry. I thought that you hated me.”

“Hate you? What? No, you’re—you’re fantastic, Lucy.”

Fantastic. Nobody had ever called her fantastic before.

“I—thank you.” Lucy silently took back all the bad things she’d said about him to Amy, and to any other person she knew who’d sit still long enough to listen. “You’re the smartest person in our classes and you work very hard.”

“Nah, you’re the smartest.” Flynn looked delighted by her compliment, though, his face lighting up. “So, will you come home with me? My family would love to meet you. So would Wyatt, he’s had to hear me talk his ear off about you for months.”

Lucy’s cheeks burned without knowing why. He’d been praising her to his boyfriend? For months? “I… I wish I could, I’m sorry. But I need to be with my family for the holidays. My dad’s not doing so well.”

Dad wouldn’t care if she wanted to spend the holidays with her friend. Dad was understanding that way. But Mom would never forgive her.

“Ah.” Flynn looked apologetic, and a little disappointed, but he quickly hid it. Probably didn’t want her to feel bad. That—that did a number on her heart. “I’m sorry to hear that, really. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”

“I… thank you.” Wow. She had severely misjudged the guy. But who could blame her!? He’d spent all semester poking holes in her essay topics! “I appreciate it.”

“Have a good break, then.” Flynn shuffled his feet a little awkwardly, and it occurred to Lucy that she hadn’t seen Flynn ever really hang out with anyone besides his roommate. That she’d never seen him taking part in any of the extracurricular social activities on campus. That she had never heard him talk about any friends back home—just his boyfriend, and occasionally someone named Jess.

Maybe Flynn wasn’t a jerk. Or arrogant. Maybe he just didn’t know how to be around people.

Before she could question the impulse, Lucy hugged him. Flynn jolted in surprise, and then hugged her back.

Flynn gave surprisingly good hugs. Lucy felt safely held, buried in his chest, warm, snug. She’d never had a hug like this before.

She pulled away before she lingered long enough for it to become awkward. She wasn’t sure she’d so much as touched Flynn before now. Her whole body felt warm. “Happy holidays?” she offered up. “See you in January?”

Flynn saluted her. “See you in January, Miss Lucy Preston.”

Spending time with Dad was great, watching _National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation_ (his favorite), listening to him read _‘Twas the Night Before Christmas_ like she was five years old again, swapping stories. Making gingerbread houses and going ice skating with Amy was great. Mom was… Mom was Mom. It was fine.

But Lucy found herself wishing that she’d gone with Flynn.

* * *

Papa was waiting for him at the airport, looking so much older than Flynn remembered, but just as distinguished. It had been a long hard road to fit in, given his background, but Asher Flynn had successfully carved a name and niche for himself as a diplomatic liaison for NASA, working to promote joint programs and idea sharing on space technology between countries.

“Garcia.” Never one to be shy at showing his sons affection, Papa pulled Flynn into a hug. “We missed you.”

Flynn was now taller than his father by a couple inches, but he still felt like a kid when Papa hugged him. “Missed you too. How’s Mom?”

“Ready to spoil you rotten. She’s been fussing over Wyatt since he’s the only one left.” Papa insisted on taking Flynn’s luggage for him as they started through the airport.

“I bet he loves that.” Despite not being related to her by blood, Wyatt was a mama’s boy through and through with Maria. Maria Flynn was the only one in the world who could get away with calling Wyatt ‘baby’. Not even Flynn could do that.

“Oh, he eats it up.”

“When does Gabriel get in?” Flynn’s brother was fourteen years older and lived in Paris, so he generally only came home once a year, for Christmas. But he also paid for Mom and Papa to go visit him in the summer, which was nice. Flynn loved his brother. He was just also keenly aware that out of the two of them, Gabriel had gotten all the social skills.

Also Gabriel liked to go out of his way to annoy the shit out of Flynn. But that was fine. One time Flynn had put bleach in his brother’s shampoo bottle and Gabriel had worn hats for weeks until his hair had grown out and he could cut it. He found his ways to get even.

“Tomorrow,” Papa replied. “Please don’t knock the tree down this year.”

Last year, Gabriel and Flynn had gotten into a wrestling match and knocked the tree down. Luckily no ornaments had broken. Mom had made them both put the tree back up and do all of the holiday dishes as punishment.

“I’ll behave. I can’t say the same for Gabriel.”

Papa gave him a long-suffering look, and they got into the car.

Flynn was expecting the door to fly open the moment they pulled up to the house, but instead they got inside without incident. For a moment he stood there, unsure, nerves overtaking him. He knew, he _knew_ that Wyatt loved him, so why was he suddenly second guessing everything?

And then footsteps thundered down the steps and Flynn was shoved backwards into the now-closed front door as Wyatt barreled into him with all the finesse and force of a freight train, arms clamped tight around Flynn’s shoulders, face buried in Flynn’s neck like a homing missile.

Flynn wrapped his arms around Wyatt, the smell of him hitting first, oddly enough, then the heat and mold of Wyatt’s body against his, and he buried his face in Wyatt’s hair as tears unexpectedly stung his eyes. He’d spent almost all of his life with Wyatt, and he hadn’t realized just how much it hurt to be without him until he had Wyatt with him again.

He tightened his hold and Wyatt snuggled in closer. “I might not let you leave again,” Wyatt whispered.

Flynn closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I might be okay with that.”

At last he pulled back, and Wyatt was gently but firmly moved to the side by Mom. “Oh, honey, look at you.” She hugged Flynn tightly and kissed his cheek. “I want to hear all about your semester after you two are finished making out.”

“Mom!”

“I really wish you’d stop doing that,” Wyatt said, sounding strangled.

Mom kissed Wyatt on the cheek too, ruffling his hair. “It’s a mother’s job to embarrass her kids. Go have your alone time. Jess is going to come over for dinner.”

Jess was Flynn’s only real friend outside of Stanford and arguably his best friend. After they’d gotten over the whole _you used to date Wyatt and now I’m wildly in love with him_ thing.

“Thanks, Mom,” Flynn said, hugging her again, because he really had missed her, and he knew she missed him, but she was still letting him disappear to be a complete and total octopus with Wyatt for an hour.

Or, rather, Wyatt was the octopus.

Wyatt had always been clingy, once he’d managed to stop doing the whole ‘my dad said real men don’t hold hands’ thing or whatever other absolute horseshit his father would tell him. Flynn was still the only one who knew the truth about Jeb Logan’s death other than Papa. He wasn’t supposed to know. He’d overheard Mom and Papa talking about it one night, and he’d recognized in that moment not just pride in his mother, but an understanding of her. An understanding that the two of them, Maria and Garcia, were the same.

Mom was forever saying that Flynn was like his father, like Asher. But Flynn, personally, saw more of Asher’s influence in Gabriel. They were both dashing, both soft, both stern when they needed to be. They both had this quiet core—one that Gabriel covered up with his debonair smiles and his outrageous jokes, but it was there nonetheless.

Flynn looked at his mother, at her rage, her passion, her stubbornness, her ability to plant her feet and stare into the storm and not let it knock her down, and he saw so much of himself that sometimes it made him ache. There was an ability to endure great sadness in both of them, but that also meant a predisposition for sadness, and he was just glad that his memories of his mother were of her happy, fiercely so, with her sons and her husband.

He was glad that she’d killed Jeb Logan. His only regret was that he hadn’t done it himself.

And now—now Wyatt knew there was no shame in plastering himself to Flynn and cuddling him like it would take an army to pry him off. They lay in Flynn’s bedroom—their bedroom, really—with their arms and legs tangled, holding on for dear life.

He kept kissing Wyatt’s skin—his face, his neck, his mouth—so overwhelmed with the desire to hold, and be held, that he didn’t even really want to jump into sex right away. They didn’t talk for what felt like hours, and Wyatt even dozed off for a little bit at one point, his nose pressed to the hollow of Flynn’s throat, snoring softly. Flynn loved him so much it felt like his heart wasn’t even in his chest anymore. He felt like he was holding the most precious thing in the universe.

“You’re staring at me, aren’t you?” Wyatt mumbled, his words barely coherent.

Flynn nudged their noses together. “Maybe.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Wyatt’s mouth, and for a moment, everything in the world felt at peace to Flynn.

And then the bedroom door banged open and Jess yelled “Geronimo!” as she tackled them, and all was chaos again as Wyatt screamed and cursed at her and Jess laughed her ass off.

* * *

Maria listened to Garcia as he continued to babble on about his classmate.

Lucy Preston. A singular young woman, according to her son, anyway. Wyatt was in the kitchen with Asher, learning how to cook. He’d been trying to branch out in his talents over the past few months, to fill the time that he’d used to spend with Garcia. Maria was proud of him, especially for spending more time with Asher, who had always intimidated Wyatt. She understood it, given Wyatt’s father. Even though her darling husband wasn’t intimidating at all to Maria.

“I think her mom’s too hard on her,” Garcia went on, stretched out across the couch. He was so lanky, still, and Maria knew he would lose that eventually, just like Gabriel had, but she almost wanted him to stay like that forever, to stay young and have that slightly puppyish air to him. It was the struggle of all mothers, she supposed. “Which is unfair because Lucy’s the best in the class, I mean she’s a genius, seriously…”

“I’m sure she appreciates your friendship,” Maria said.

“I don’t know.” Garcia looked doubtful. “She seemed surprised that we were friends when I offered for her to join us for Christmas.”

“Well. It took me two months to realize your father was trying to flirt with me, so, it obviously runs in the family.”

“Slander,” Asher said, emerging from the kitchen and bending over to kiss her softly.

“Whatever you tell yourself so you can sleep at night, darling,” Maria replied. Asher’s eyes gleamed as he smiled down at her, making her heart flip over. It had been almost two decades and he still made her feel giddy inside, like a new crush, and she never tired of it.

Asher kissed her again and then went back into the kitchen. Maria refocused on Garcia, who was rolling his eyes. “I think it was sweet of you to invite her to join us.”

Garcia shrugged. “She didn’t seem happy to be spending time with her mom. And I think you guys would like her. Wyatt especially.”

Maria hummed. “Garcia… do you…” It was hard for her to figure out how to ask. But she hadn’t ever seen Garcia talk about anyone like this, his eyes shining, except for Wyatt. Not that she doubted Garcia’s affection for Wyatt. The two of them were constantly touching, cuddling, talking like they were the only two people who existed.

But Garcia had always been someone with such a large and giving heart. Could it be possible that one could love more than one person? Maria was not naïve. And she had heard of Gabriel’s many exploits in Paris. Her son was not the type to find one person to settle with for life. He would have partners who lasted for a while and they eventually parted ways amicably. They were closer than most parents with their children, given that it had been just the two of them against the world for so long, until Asher came into their lives. Gabriel trusted her, told her of the parties he went to, the times he had more than one person in his bed—not details, but enough.

If anyone could do that, and do it more earnestly, with his whole heart, it would be Garcia.

How to even possibly begin to ask Garcia about that, though? It wasn’t an easy topic to broach.

“Flynn?” Wyatt called. “Could you come here for a second?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Garcia gave her an apologetic smile and got to his feet, walking over. “What’s up?”

Wyatt folded his arms. “What’s better, peppermints in cocoa, or marshmallows?”

“Peppermint.”

“You’re a traitor.” Wyatt flicked his gaze up towards the ceiling, and oh, Maria saw what he was doing.

Garcia frowned, followed Wyatt’s gaze, and grinned at the mistletoe that Asher had put up. Ostensibly for her to use, not their sons, but Maria could be generous.

“Well, well, well,” Garcia said, and Maria obligingly turned around to face the other way as Garcia pulled Wyatt into his chest.

After a minute, though, her patience wore out and she got up, hip-checking the boys out of the way. “Mom!” Garcia and Wyatt chorused, both gaping at her.

Maria shrugged. “You had your turn, go finish cooking. Unless you want to see me and your father…”

“Ugh, Mom.”

“Ew, no.”

Maria watched as Wyatt led Garcia into the kitchen. Garcia was, again, talking about Lucy. “Y’know, I should get some recipes, make them for Rufus and Lucy, I think they’d like them, and she’d really understand that we’re friends if I made her food, right?”

“Right, sure,” Wyatt said, not looking at all jealous, to Maria’s relief.

Asher joined her under the mistletoe. “Should we be worried?” he murmured.

“I don’t think so,” Maria replied. “You should be worried about something else, though.”

“Oh?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “If you stand under that once the boys are asleep, I can’t promise I won’t do more than kiss you.”

“Oh, dear.” Asher’s hands fell to her hips. He had a touch of silver in his hair, now. Maria thought it just made him look more distinguished. “I will definitely have to stand here then.”

Maria smiled, going up onto her toes to nudge her nose with his. Oh, how she loved him.

She’d just keep an eye—and an ear—on Garcia and this Lucy girl. Whatever was brewing, she hoped it would resolve itself without any broken hearts. Her son didn’t know it, but he was very much a heartbreaker, and she didn’t want anyone, especially Wyatt, to pay the price for Garcia’s obliviousness.

* * *

Rufus liked Flynn.

He did, he liked the guy. Flynn was a good roommate who kept his stuff organized and clean and on his side of the room. When Rufus asked how the hell Flynn had actually learned how to clean up his shit, Flynn had explained that for the last couple years he’d been sharing his room with his boyfriend, so he’d learned pretty quickly he had to pick up his stuff or the room would devolve into chaos.

That was the kind of person Flynn was—smart about being quiet when he had to, but loud and fierce about it when he could get away with it. He told Rufus that he had a boyfriend, and Rufus had heard the unspoken _so if you’ve got a problem with it you’d better fucking request a room transfer_. Rufus didn’t care so long as it meant Flynn wasn’t going to be bringing people back to the room to fuck while Rufus was trying to study. He wasn’t going to let Connor or his mom down, and he needed to keep his grades perfect if he had a chance of getting into MIT’s graduate program.

Flynn was surprisingly good for stuff like that. He listened while Rufus ranted about his problems, or freaked out that he wasn’t going to do well and would disappoint everyone who’d ever taken a chance on him. Flynn apparently had a bit of an overachieving brother and his mom was a genius at NASA—“wait, you’re _Maria Tompkins_ son!? …can I get an autograph from her?”—and his dad had been some charming deadly spy assassin person once upon a time. So he felt like he had a lot to live up to as well.

They got along great, and Rufus couldn’t have asked for a better roommate his freshman year.

But, and he said this with all the love in his heart: if Flynn didn’t shut the holy fuck up about Lucy Preston and just date the woman already, Rufus was going to shove him out the fucking window.

Flynn didn’t really shut up about Wyatt, either, but Rufus could handle that. He’d had plenty of friends in high school who were dating. He knew the drill. And Wyatt was all the way in Texas, he could forgive Flynn for a little pining.

But Lucy was right _there_. Flynn saw her every day! There was no reason for pining! Just ask the poor woman out and put everyone out of their misery!

The worst part was that Flynn seemed to be oblivious.

Lucy had started joining them at their lunch table. Rufus far from minded. He could use some more friends. He’d had a whole gang of people in Chicago that he hung out with, and it was lonely, having only his roommate. He just didn’t have time with all his studies from his double major (and possibly a minor… if he had time… oh God he was gonna die before junior year…) to go out and meet people. It would all pay off when he had the best damn degree and a job at Connor Mason’s side in one of the most cutting-edge technology companies out there, but for now, sometimes it felt like a slow form of suicide to put himself through this.

Lucy was great. She listened patiently to Rufus’s woes, she made cookies, she always had a positive spin on things, she was loving and kind, and far too hard on herself, and a major bookworm. But how much Rufus liked her was nothing compared to how much Flynn liked her. Flynn stared at Lucy like she was the moon and stars. He once called her sunshine. He brought her coffee every morning for their eight a.m. class, proofread her essays, and talked about her constantly. His goofy grin when he saw her could be seen from space.

Rufus just didn’t know how to tell Flynn to say something.

Because, well, Flynn had a boyfriend. A boyfriend he adored. Rufus had never spoken to Wyatt Logan but he was pretty sure he knew every damn thing about the guy from the time he’d taught Flynn how to drive a car to the time his last baby tooth fell out because he and Flynn were wrestling on _top_ of the monkey bars in middle school to the time Wyatt did his oral exam in German class and got a perfect score to the time he and Flynn first kissed while ditching prom.

Most people, Rufus would worry that they were getting tired of their current boyfriend. He’d worry that distance was making the person back home seem less attractive. “Love the one you’re with” and all that. If that had been the case, he’d seriously sit Flynn down and talk to him about what he was seeing. Advise him to reach out to Wyatt more, to value Wyatt, or to re-evaluate and break up with him.

But Flynn was still madly, stupidly in love with Wyatt. He just also seemed to be madly, stupidly in love with Lucy.

So what the fuck was Rufus supposed to do with that!? Could you date two people at once? He was tempted to go to a gay bar in the city and ask around but he had a feeling that wouldn’t get him any solid answers and would just make everyone look at him weird. The internet was only semi-helpful.

Okay, so maybe he just wouldn’t say anything. Since Flynn seemed unaware that his feelings for Lucy went beyond the platonic. Rufus would just… keep an eye on things. After all, maybe this was just an intense crush and it would fade with time. Who knew?

Not Rufus, that was for sure.

* * *

Flynn hurried after Lucy as class ended and they exited the classroom, everyone groaning with relief. There were still finals to deal with but at least this was the last class session of the semester. “Lucy! Wait up!”

Lucy’s father had died over the summer of esophageal cancer from smoking. Flynn hadn’t heard about it until he’d gotten back to Stanford for the fall and had noticed how quiet she was. Lucy could be insecure about herself at times, which was apparently why she’d taken Flynn’s challenges as a slight against her intelligence rather than his attempt to engage her in conversation, whereas he had seen them as something exciting and fun. But she had never been _quiet_ , not until this semester.

It saddened him. Lucy was so full of light. She shouldn’t ever have herself dimmed down. But he also knew that there wasn’t really anything he could do about it.

Except.

Lucy paused to wait for him as he skidded to a halt next to her. “I was wondering—after finals, if you wanted—to come home with me for the holidays? My family’s been dying to meet you.”

Over the summer he’d gotten an internship at a local history museum so that he could get some hands-on archival and outreach experience while still spending as much time with Wyatt as humanly possible. It wasn’t fancy, sure, but it had made him happy. Once Wyatt became a master mechanic and got all his certifications, and Flynn graduated, they could go wherever they wanted, travel the world.

He might have talked about Lucy a lot and thought about her even more. But if so it was fine. Nobody minded. And Lucy was great, who wouldn’t think about her a lot?

Lucy looked a bit startled, her cheeks flushing, and then she gave him a small smile. “I appreciate the offer, Flynn. And it is tempting. But I should really… I should be with my family, this year.”

“I understand.” He didn’t, not really. He’d never lost anyone close to him like that. But he understood in theory. He’d probably make the same choice, in her shoes. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Lucy shook her head. “I’m going to go study. But… thank you. For being there.”

“Of course.” What else would he do? “Anything you need, Lucy, I’m here.”

She nodded, and reached out almost absently, squeezing his arm. Then she turned and headed down the corridor, and was gone.

* * *

Amy winced as Mom said something about Lucy’s internship opportunities and her older sister slammed a pot down with a little more force than necessary. “Mom, I get it, but I want to go to Europe.”

“I just don’t see the reason why you should when I can get you into plenty of great places right here in the states…”

“Are you even listening to me?” Lucy replied, her voice getting that high, reedy sound in it that signaled her sister was about to reach her breaking point.

The phone rang and Mom answered it. Someone from work, it sounded like.

Amy got down from the table and sidled over to Lucy’s side in the kitchen. “Hey, Luce?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You said Flynn invited you to his home for Christmas?”

Lucy nodded, adding water to the pot. “Yeah. He did that last year, too. He’s thoughtful that way.”

Amy wisely did not comment about how Lucy had once hated the guy’s guts and now talked about him with thinly-veiled stars in her eyes. “I think you should go.”

“What?” Lucy turned off the stove and looked at her. “But… Amy.”

“I know, I know, with Dad and all but… you and Mom are just making each other miserable. I’d rather you be somewhere else and be happy than be here and feel bad, y’know?”

Lucy looked at her for a few moments, then pulled her in, wrapping an arm around her. “You’re so grown up. It worries me sometimes.”

“Oh good, I worry about you too.”

Lucy kissed her cheek. Already Amy was the same height that she was and was looking to be a few inches taller. “If you’re really sure…”

“Yeah, I am. Go have fun with your friend.” _Your not-boyfriend_.

Lucy gave her a real smile, one of the few that Amy had seen since Dad had passed.

* * *

Lucy hesitated, her hand hovering in front of Flynn’s dorm room door.

Was this a stupid idea? She’d already turned him down. He probably had made other plans now. And he had probably only asked her as a courtesy. He probably didn’t mean it.

But no, Flynn never said anything he didn’t mean. If anything, he was a bit too blunt.

What if he’d asked Rufus to come with him instead, now? What if…

Oh for crying out loud.

Lucy raised her fist. Lowered it. This was stupid, she should just—

The door opened and Rufus stepped out, smacking right into her.

Both he and Lucy yelped in surprise, as behind him she heard Flynn say, “What the hell?” Flynn peered around the door as Rufus caught her by the shoulders, asking if she was all right, and Lucy regained her sense of balance.

“I’m fine,” she reassured Rufus. “I’m sorry. I was just about to knock. I’m here to see Flynn?”

“Then I’ll get out of your way.” Rufus smiled at her and scooted out into the hall. “I’ve got a study meeting before finals tomorrow. See you around, Lucy!”

“Good luck with your finals!” Lucy waved to him before Flynn ushered her into his room.

And that meant that she had to actually tell him why she was here. Crap.

“What’s up?” Flynn asked, closing the door behind her. He was wearing a soft, dark burgundy turtleneck—he’d told her once that his brother Gabriel, who lived in Europe, had gotten him a set of turtlenecks from Iceland as a Christmas gift one year.

Lucy’s heart was pounding. Which was ridiculous, because all she was doing was accepting an offer to stay with a friend for the holidays. It didn’t mean anything. And he’d already offered so she wasn’t going out on a huge limb here, theoretically.

“I was wondering… if it’s too late or you’ve changed your mind I understand, but…” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I was wondering if I could… if the spot was still open? To join you for Christmas break?”

Flynn, to her surprise, looked concerned. “Is everything all right? I thought you wanted to stay with Amy and your mom, because of… everything.”

Lucy nodded. “Mom and I… it’s been really tough. And I never get a break from her. I don’t even live in a dorm, I live at home with her. So. And. Well. After Dad… we need some time apart, I think. And Amy was the one who actually told me to go. I think she’d rather have a quiet Christmas and not have to listen to Mom and me arguing constantly.”

She felt like shit that she couldn’t find a way to keep herself from getting into it with Mom, and that Amy had to listen to it. But Mom just kept pushing for her to do everything here, close to home. Lucy loved Mom but she also wanted to do her own thing. She didn’t want to just be Carol Preston’s daughter for the rest of her life.

So now she was here. About to go spend the holidays with her friend, and his family, instead of her own.

She didn’t know if Dad would be happy for her or saddened. Maybe a bit of both. He wouldn’t be disappointed, though. It was impossible—it had been impossible, she corrected herself—to disappoint Dad. She’d loved that about him.

“Well…” Flynn’s voice, his eyes, his face, were all soft. “If you’re certain, then of course. Your spot is always open.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say to that kind of generosity. She’d been a crappy friend this semester, wrapped up in her own struggles and not really reaching out. But that apparently didn’t matter to Flynn, and she had no idea what to say to that. So she hugged Flynn instead.

“Oomph.” Flynn wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be more okay spending Christmas with you and your family than I would be here,” she admitted.

“Okay then.” Flynn stroked her hair. “You’d better pack your bags, then.”

* * *

Flynn was terrified as he waited in the airport with Lucy. He knew that Wyatt would like her. Wyatt had to like her. Who didn’t like Lucy?

And yet, somehow, he couldn’t shake the paranoia.

Lucy seemed nervous as well, clutching her luggage with white knuckles, quiet.

“Be prepared for my mom to spoil you,” Flynn noted. “Oh, and Gabriel… uh, just. Brace yourself for anything with him. He’s a lot more serious than he lets on. He’s very successful at his job, he’s big in the art world. He just likes to keep people on their toes.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them,” Lucy replied softly.

Flynn’s heart leapt up into his throat as the car pulled up. Wyatt, not Papa, was picking them up this year.

Wyatt emerged from the car, looking a bit windswept, and Flynn suspected that once again Wyatt had left late and had broken several speed laws to get to the airport on time.

“You look like shit,” Wyatt noted, walking around the car and walking up to him.

“You get real bratty when I’m gone,” Flynn replied, but despite his diagnosis Wyatt went easy as anything when Flynn grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him.

Wyatt made a content little mewling noise, pressing himself against Flynn and shivering a little, like he had been cold for weeks and Flynn was the only thing that could warm him. And, to be fair, it was fucking freezing out. People thought of Texas as hot all the time but it got a proper winter and in certain areas it would even snow.

He scratched his fingers lightly through Wyatt’s hair, kissed his temple, forgot about everything else in the world for just a moment. He knew it was ridiculous but it didn’t feel like he was really home until he got to hug Wyatt again. They’d always been touching a lot, even as kids, even when Wyatt had felt ashamed for it. Now that they were dating it just multiplied by ten.

Wyatt pulled back just enough that they could press their foreheads together, his arms around Flynn’s neck. His grin was so wide it split his face, and Flynn grinned back helplessly. “ _Volim te_.”

“Love you too.” Wyatt kissed him, the kind of soft, sucking kiss that was casual and intimate, and Flynn couldn’t wait to get him alone and kiss him harder and dirtier than that, all over, until there wasn’t a single inch of Wyatt that hadn’t been marked by Flynn’s mouth.

Flynn made himself pull back a bit, squeezing Wyatt’s hand. “Wyatt, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is my boyfriend, Wyatt.”

His voice naturally lowered for that middle part, just in case. You could never be too sure, not in Texas. It was better at Stanford but Flynn still sometimes got paranoid. It was something that never really went away, a constant awareness that the people around you might turn on you if you revealed that part of yourself.

Lucy smiled shyly and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am!?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age, so you don’t have to call me ma’am.”

“You haven’t called anyone ma’am in your life!”

“I panicked!” Wyatt said, his face getting red.

“Aww, he’s adorable,” Lucy said, smiling more broadly, and Wyatt’s face got even redder.

“He’s like a puppy,” Flynn said. Wyatt spluttered in protest.

They piled into the car, where Flynn insisted on driving despite Wyatt’s insistence that he was a perfectly safe driver, _Flynn_ , he wasn’t going to get them pulled over.

“Are you two always like this?” Lucy asked as Flynn physically shoved Wyatt into the front passenger seat after Wyatt tried to climb over the gear shift to get into the driver’s seat.

“Usually we’re worse,” Flynn admitted, sliding into the seat and slapping away Wyatt’s hands.

Mom, of course, enveloped Lucy in a hug the moment she saw her. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Garcia’s told us so much about you!”

Papa also gave Lucy a hug, which she didn’t seem to expect—nobody expected tall, intimidating, quietly dashing Asher Flynn to be so openly affectionate—but Flynn saw her smile as she accepted his hug.

“Well, well, well, who’s this?” Gabriel said, and Flynn grit his teeth.

“You know very well who it is, I told you about her.”

“I’m Lucy Preston,” Lucy said.

Gabriel looked like he belonged on a movie set, and Flynn inwardly cursed both his mother and Gabriel’s father, God rest his soul, for gifting his older brother with such damn good DNA. Now Lucy was going to just fawn over Gabriel the entire time and ignore him and Wyatt.

“Somebody looks jealous,” Papa noted as Gabriel took Lucy’s hand and kissed it, because Gabriel was an asshole.

“I’m not jealous. Gabriel just always does this.”

“Someday, Garcia, you are going to learn that Gabriel does these things specifically because they annoy you. It’s what brothers do.”

Lucy was excitedly asking Gabriel all about Paris and telling him about her crush on Josephine Baker when she was in high school, Gabriel smiling indulgently throughout. Flynn glared. It had taken him weeks to earn Lucy’s trust enough for her to tell him about her first historical girl crush.

“You’ll be sleeping in the basement, Lucy, I hope you don’t mind,” Maria cut in. “Gabriel’s in his old room and Wyatt and Garcia are sharing, of course. But it’s nice and cozy down there, and you can stay up and watch movies if you want.”

“I really wouldn’t mind sleeping anywhere,” Lucy said, and her voice sounded so close to laughter that Flynn’s heart jumped. He hadn’t heard her laugh all semester. “I’m just glad that you’re having me.”

“I’ll get your things,” Wyatt said, swooping in and taking Lucy’s luggage down to the basement. He winked at Flynn as he walked by, and Flynn melted for his boyfriend all over again. Wyatt was clearly doing that for Lucy so that Gabriel couldn’t do it instead.

“Thank you,” Lucy said, hurrying after Wyatt down the stairs.

Flynn let Mom and Papa pull him into a hug, and then Gabriel, because okay fine, he did love the guy. “She seems really nice,” Gabriel said honestly.

“Shy,” Mom added.

“Her dad passed away over the summer,” Flynn admitted. “It’s been hard. And she and her mom… I think her mom’s a bit controlling, it’s not my place, but they’re at odds a lot.”

Mom hummed, and Flynn could already see the gears turning in her head. Mom had as good as adopted Wyatt, after all. She would need no encouragement to take Lucy under her wing, too.

“Then we’ll just have to be sure to show her a good time,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t miss the gingerbread making, did I?”

“You ate it all last year and we couldn’t even make a proper house.”

“Well, this year, we’ll compete to see who has the best.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

Lucy and Wyatt emerged from the basement, talking about, of all things, spies in World War II. Flynn was confused until he heard Lucy mention Ian Fleming. Ah, yes. James Bond was Wyatt’s first big gay crush. The moment Wyatt saw him, he went up and tucked himself into Flynn’s side. Flynn wrapped his arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. Touching Wyatt felt so natural—it was not touching Wyatt, being away from him, that felt wrong.

“She’s great,” Wyatt whispered to him. “She’s really great, Flynn. I like her.”

Flynn grinned. He could see all of the faint freckles on Wyatt’s cheeks. “Good. I was hoping you would.”

He leaned in and kissed him, because they were home, it was safe, and Wyatt was too soft and adorable, how could he resist?

“And there isn’t even any mistletoe,” Gabriel commented. “You know how weird it is to see you two kiss when I can remember you shoving mud in each other’s faces when you were eleven, right?”

Flynn flipped him off as Lucy said, “Why were they shoving mud into each other’s faces?”

Wyatt yanked his face back and yelled, “No!” but it was too late, and Gabriel, Mom, and Papa all got scarily identical smirks on their faces.

“Oh, Garcia never told you how he and Wyatt were mortal enemies for the first two years of their acquaintance, did he?” Mom said.

Flynn hated his entire family.

* * *

Wyatt liked Lucy a lot more than he’d thought he would.

It was just weird how much Flynn talked about her, that was all. If you asked Flynn, Lucy was perfect. And Wyatt understood that Flynn didn’t have a lot of friends and he was glad that Lucy was one of them and that Flynn wasn’t alone and lonely. It was just… weird.

But now he knew Lucy, and he understood.

Lucy was a ray of sunshine. She had a way of listening to you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. She was so encouraging, and as the vacation went on, she smiled more and more. Wyatt loved her smile. It lit up her whole face. And Lucy would say things, calling him adorable, calling him a sweetheart, making him blush and duck his head down.

Wyatt hadn’t ever felt like anything was missing with Flynn. Of course not. He loved Flynn. Flynn was the first person he’d ever really learned _how_ to love. But now instead of cuddling with Flynn on the couch, Lucy was there as well, and they’d laugh and watch movies and eat popcorn, legs flopping all over each other, faces pressed into each other’s shoulders.

They made gingerbread houses and cookies, Gabriel and Flynn getting competitive the way that they always did, and Flynn taking it far more seriously than Gabriel, like he always did. Lucy patiently decorated her house with beautiful designs with the icing, and used very little candy. Wyatt found himself entranced by the swirls of icing that appeared on the gingerbread through Lucy’s patient and precise movements, the way she would stick her tongue out between her teeth as she concentrated, how her hands never shook despite the surprising effort it took to get the icing to come out steadily but not too quickly.

And she didn’t tattle on him when he snuck cookie dough, which earned her a lot of points in Wyatt’s book.

They fell asleep on Christmas Eve on the basement couch, the ending of _Miracle on 34 th Street _playing, Lucy’s head on Wyatt’s shoulder and her legs draped over Flynn’s lap. Wyatt smiled down at her, and then looked up to find Flynn watching them.

“I really like her,” he said. “I mean it.” He knew that Flynn had been worried about that.

Flynn smiled, and his hand found Wyatt’s underneath the blanket they were all sharing. Wyatt squeezed, feeling the weight of Lucy warm against his side, and felt… not like something had been missing before. More like a new flavor had been added to his coffee. Coffee on its own was fantastic, but now he was tasting it with hazelnut, and he never wanted to go back.

Yeah, he could see why Flynn talked about her so damn much.

* * *

Flynn watched as Lucy butchered German trying to talk to Wyatt, who was struggling not to laugh, as Papa coached her. He sipped at his eggnog, feeling the warmth spread through him. He wasn’t twenty-one yet, but Mom and Papa let him have a little alcohol to go with a meal, sometimes. Wyatt didn’t drink except for once in a blue moon. It reminded him too much of his dad.

Gabriel sidled up to him. “She’s much happier now than she was when she first got here.”

Flynn nodded. “I worry about her, sometimes.”

“She reminds me of Wyatt that way. Not that I’m saying her home life is as bad, of course…” Gabriel took a sip of his own eggnog. “Do you ever look at our parents and think… God, we’re lucky?”

“Yeah.” Flynn watched Mom, who was supposedly reading her book but was really watching Papa over the top of it, her eyes shining. “We really did.”

Silence fell, and Flynn pondered how when he let himself be calm and serious, Gabriel really wasn’t so bad. They’d had plenty of really good discussions, just the two of them. It was just that Gabriel was fourteen years older, and didn’t seem to have to constantly second guess what he was doing or saying, being sociable came easy to him, and Flynn… didn’t always know what to do with that, or how to bridge the gap of years and personality that lay between them.

“I have to say,” Gabriel mused, “I didn’t take you for the _ménage à trois_ type, Garcia.”

Flynn choked on his eggnog. “It’s—what—fuck, no, Gabriel, it’s not like that.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Whatever you say. You’re so terribly old-fashioned sometimes, Garcia.”

“You do realize that you’re still not fucking French and you sound like a pretentious ass, right?”

“A pretentious ass who’s making a fortune and lives in Paris.”

“Mom!?” Flynn yelled. “Are you sure you put alcohol in this eggnog!?”

Gabriel, the bastard, just laughed.

* * *

Maria watched from her chair as Lucy read out loud to Garcia and Wyatt, the two boys tangled up with each other on the couch while Lucy sat on the floor, a blanket wrapped around her knees, Garcia slowly combing his fingers through her hair.

She really did not know what to make of the three of them.

Well, she knew what to make of it. But she didn’t know what to say or do about it, or if she should even say or do anything. As far as she could tell, neither of her boys seemed aware of their sudden and deep devotion to this girl, the way they would follow her around from room to room, gazing at her like she was a rainbow after weeks of clouds and storms. It had taken Garcia and Wyatt years to recognize what their feelings for each other were, and then another year or so to act upon those feelings, so she wasn’t really surprised.

But what would happen when they realized? It was such a delicate balance, three people. Would one or both of her sons end up getting hurt?

There were so many ways this could all end in tears. And none of the three of them deserved that.

She had spoken to Lucy a bit about her father, and her family. Maria knew what it was to lose someone dear to you. Her first husband, her first love, had been snatched away and she’d had no support. Her father had died when she was in high school and her mother had never forgiven her for marrying a… well, her mother’s words for Gabriel’s biological father were not words that Maria wanted to repeat, even in her own head.

Speaking of mothers, Maria wanted to have a few words with Carol Preston. But Lucy… Lucy was strong. She would find her own way. Maria saw a steel backbone underneath the softness. If only Lucy would feel comfortable using it.

Wyatt yawned, obviously falling asleep, the three of them lit up by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, and Maria smiled. For now, at least, they were happy. Hopefully they would continue to be so, and this would all find a way to work out.

Asher pressed a mug into her hands. The rich smell of chocolate with a sharp sweet undercurrent of peppermint reached her nose and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, darling.”

Asher sat on the arm of the chair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Do you remember our first night?” he murmured.

She remembered it well. “To which part, exactly, are you referring?” She’d arranged for Gabriel to have a sleepover at a friend’s house and she and Asher had made love all night long, their bodies entwined, until there was not a part of her that he had not made sing, and there was not a part of him that she had not memorized.

“Afterwards.” Asher pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

_I want to try to make you happy. If you will let me._

“I remember,” Maria whispered. “You succeeded.”

She laid her head against his leg and sipped her cocoa, watching her sons, and Lucy, and thought if nothing else, they did all have this night.

* * *

It was March when Wyatt got the call from Flynn, just after he got home from a day at the garage. He was so close to passing his certifications, he could taste it.

“I need you to come and visit.”

Wyatt stared at the phone, then put it back to his ear. No _hello_ , no _how are you_ , just, _I need you to come and visit._ “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Flynn assured him. “I just need you to come and visit.”

“If everything’s fine then why do you need me?”

“A guy can’t miss his boyfriend?”

“Flynn, I know when something’s up.” Suspicion started to rise in his chest like an ocean.

“Please, nothing’s wrong, Wyatt, I just really… I need you here. In person. Please.”

Most of the time, Flynn was so good at acting like he was fine being away from Wyatt that Wyatt started to fear that Flynn didn’t actually miss him at all. That he was the only one suffering through this separation. But then he’d get a glimpse of something, a crack in the veneer, and he’d realize that Flynn really did miss him just as much. That it hurt for him just as it hurt for Wyatt. Flynn was just better at hiding his emotions.

Wyatt did have money saved up. And it wasn’t at a super expensive time of year to travel. So he said okay, and he got a ticket, and he flew up to Stanford.

Flynn greeted him at the airport, apparently having borrowed Lucy’s car. He looked tired, and when Wyatt hugged him, Flynn held on tighter than usual. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

Flynn pulled back and took Wyatt’s face in his hands, kissing him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but that’s not answering my question.”

Flynn kept his hands on Wyatt’s face. They were so warm. God, Wyatt loved him. “I’m also in love with Lucy.”

Wyatt stared at him. “…oh.”

“I told you I needed to see you.”

“Oh,” Wyatt said again, because holy shit, the last two years just made a whole lot of fucking sense.

* * *

Flynn had realized he was in love with Lucy at the most random and mundane of times—after their midterm, in March.

They had finished up, and Flynn had felt like he might have actually not done too badly on it. He’d stayed up all night for days studying, because Carol Preston was a goddamn monster when it came to test questions, and he’d made Rufus and Wyatt both grill him on things. He and Lucy had quizzed each other for hours in the library.

“It’s ridiculous,” he’d told Lucy as they exited. “Tests don’t show you how well you know the material. If I want to know a fact when I’m writing a paper as a historian, I’ll look it up. That’s what archives are for. In fact you’re supposed to look it up! They don’t trust you if you don’t properly source yourself.”

“I agree,” Lucy had said. “Although I love your little notes that you add.”

Flynn had paused. “You… you were looking at my test?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucy’d replied. “I saw that you were adding all these bits about King James and his lover, and I had to try not to laugh, and I thought, but that’s not what the question was about, the question was about something else. And so I grabbed your test out of my mom’s office drawer the next time I was there and… it drives her nuts, but I love it. You’re adding all these… sassy little bits, it’s hilarious. You’re hilarious.”

And Flynn had stared at her, thinking that only Wyatt had ever thought he was hilarious, and the thought had come to him, like a huge wave bearing down that he couldn’t escape, _I’m in love with you._

And. Well. He couldn’t not talk to Wyatt about it.

* * *

Wyatt was panicking. He was definitely panicking. He didn’t want to be, but he was.

“Does this mean you want to break up with me?” he asked, even though Flynn had said that he was in love with Wyatt too, that he was in love with Lucy _as well_ , it was just that his stupid heart wasn’t getting the message and he couldn’t shake the terror that gripped him.

Flynn watched from his dorm room bed as Wyatt paced up and down the length of the room, feeling like he was going to tear his hair out. “Of course not.”

“But—but she’s right there and I’m—I’m far away, how could you not, y’know? Right?”

“Wyatt,” Flynn said, patiently. “Come here.”

Wyatt walked over to him and Flynn tugged at him, causing Wyatt to lose his balance and straddle Flynn’s lap or risk landing on his ass on the floor. Flynn wrapped his arms around Wyatt, nudging their foreheads together. “Look at me.”

Flynn’s eyes were wide and soft, the sunlight coming through the window making them a proper green. Wyatt did as he was told and looked at him, their eyes only an inch or so apart.

“You know something that I realized, being away from you?” Flynn whispered.

Wyatt shook his head.

“Love isn’t an emotion. I mean, it is, but it’s also a verb.” Flynn smiled up at him. “Love is a choice. I saw all these other couples that were together in high school and then went their separate ways after, and they didn’t make it, and I wondered how we could succeed where they hadn’t. I talked to them, and I talked to Rufus, and Lucy, and I realized that it was because I chose to keep loving you. Those other people, they just tried to feel. But I get up every damn morning, and I decide that I’m going to keep loving you. Just like I choose to keep loving you when you’re being annoying as fuck and I kind of want to strangle you.”

Wyatt huffed out a laugh, his eyes getting wet.

Flynn rubbed his hands up and down Wyatt’s back. “It took me so long to realize it with Lucy because… I never stopped loving you. And I’m not going to. Okay? I want to be with you. I want you in my life. And so I won’t stop loving you because I’m choosing to keep you. Does that make sense?”

Wyatt nodded. “I really fucking love you,” he admitted, his voice thick and cracking.

Flynn pulled him in that last inch, kissing him. “I love you,” he murmured, right into Wyatt’s mouth.

Wyatt let his weight fall completely onto Flynn, his thighs wrapping around him, his hips rocking in, and there wasn’t much talking after that.

* * *

Lucy approached their usual lunch table, waved at Rufus, and then halted when she saw there was an extra person.

“Wyatt?”

“Lucy!” Wyatt got to his feet and took her lunch tray for her, setting it down so that he could hug her.

“What are you doing here!?” Lucy asked, warmth filling her as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Flynn missed me too damn much,” Wyatt said, pulling back and winking at her before sitting back down next to Flynn.

Flynn rolled his eyes but put his arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. “More like this idiot can’t live without me.”

Rufus groaned. “I knew you two were going to be ridiculous and make us single people want to gouge our eyes out with a rusty spoon but I still wasn’t prepared for this.”

“You’ll find some nerd who’ll put up with you,” Flynn told him. “Just you wait.”

“Put up!? With me!? Excuse you. I am a fucking delight, you’re the one who should be lucky that your sorry ass found an idiot who is somehow enchanted by your crankiness and thinks it’s brooding and sexy…”

“It’s because he is brooding and sexy,” Wyatt cut in, sounding genuinely offended that not everyone would find Flynn as attractive as he did.

Rufus just put his face in his hands and groaned again.

Lucy had to agree with Wyatt—Flynn was brooding and sexy.

“I was going to give Wyatt a tour,” Flynn said. “Since I’ve got nothing going on for the rest of the day. Want to come?”

“Um…” Lucy wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to third wheel. Then again, she had never felt like a third wheel while she was with them over the holidays. But what if that was just a one time thing? A special occurrence that was never to be repeated? What if she found that they shut her out?

“Please?” Wyatt added, unleashing the full power of his blue puppy eyes at her.

Lucy was helpless against both the boys pouting at her. Damn it. “All right, all right, why not. I’ve got nothing going on.”

“Well, unlike you guys, I have things to do. People do see. Places to go.” Rufus stood up. “I’ll see you all later!”

They waved him off, and then Flynn gestured at Lucy. “Eat, you look starved.”

After lunch—Wyatt helped her finish off her fries—they went around campus, Flynn and Lucy pointing everything out to Wyatt, swapping stories about the crazy stuff they’d seen or heard about happening at this place or that. Wyatt was tucked into Flynn’s side almost the entire time, and it might have been her imagination, but they seemed a little more clingy than usual. It was probably just the time apart.

She didn’t feel like a third wheel, though. They included her not so much like they were making an effort to do so, but like it didn’t occur to them not to. She felt something that she hadn’t even known was empty, some strange empty puzzle piece inside of her, was getting filled. Just like it had over Christmas. She’d thought it was just the holidays, just the whole thing with her father, and maybe part of it was that but now she was suspecting that it was also just… just Wyatt and Flynn.

They loved each other so fiercely. And she could see the relief, tinged with a bit of habitual fear, as they walked around campus holding hands and nobody said anything. They couldn’t do that at home, she knew. They could only touch like this, only look at each other like this, only talk to each other like this, in the safety of their parents’ home.

It broke her heart. She had known for a while that she liked women the way she liked men, but she’d never done anything with it. There’d been a few moments where she’d thought she might, but she had never been quite sure that the girl in question returned her feelings, and she’d been too scared of rejection and humiliation to chance it. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to love someone in secret, unable to ever let your guard down.

Flynn teased Wyatt, working him up into a lather, but not far enough that Wyatt was genuinely upset—and then he’d do something like kiss Wyatt or say something soft and fond, and Wyatt would melt, all his frustration draining away. And Wyatt would get Flynn right back, would pout and be stubborn and mulish, just to get Flynn to indulge him (and Flynn always would) and then Wyatt would get this triumphant look on his face.

She wanted to be a part of that love, Lucy realized. She wanted them to be that way with her, too. And they were… almost like that with her. Almost, but not quite, because she was their friend, and they didn’t love her the way they loved each other.

It made her sick to her stomach, not for them, but for herself. It happened, sure, she knew it did, where a person would fall for someone who was already taken. But how stupid and selfish did you have to be to fall for both people in the relationship? To want them to include her, when they so clearly did not need her?

And who did that kind of thing, anyway? She had studied history, she knew that there were instances of… well, there were the Hamiltons, Sir William and his wife Emma, who had a relationship with Admiral Horatio Nelson for years until Nelson’s death. Historically, yes, there had been several instances of three people loving one another equally and living together as such when they could.

But that wasn’t how most people were, and she wasn’t going to ask Wyatt and Flynn to… and how could they possibly want a third person when they loved each other so completely? They made each other happy, there couldn’t possibly be room in their lives for another person. Especially not someone like her, someone who was still fighting with her mother, and grieving her father, and who didn’t know who she wanted to be or what she wanted to do, just that she wanted to get away from the life that had been laid out for her.

“Is everything all right?” Mom asked when she got home that night after spending all day with the boys.

God, did it really show that plainly on her face? “I’m fine.”

“Mmm. You’re a terrible liar, Lucy.” Mom walked over, holding something out to her. “I know… things have been tough with us, lately. When I was your age my mother gave me a journal. It helped me to write down my thoughts. I felt… maybe it would help you, and we could… start to work things out.”

Lucy found her eyes stinging with tears, and Mom clucked her tongue. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

She pulled Lucy in, and Lucy let herself be hugged, let herself be a kid for a moment. She could remember when she was in elementary school and she’d had such a crush on another girl, Emily, although she hadn’t realized that’s what it was at the time. And Emily had sensed something, somehow, in the way that children do—not fully understanding but just feeling… _something_. And she’d been awful to Lucy as a result.

 _She’s so mean, Mama, and I don’t know why,_ Lucy had cried into Mom’s arms after Emily had invited everyone to her birthday party except for Lucy.

It was the same now. Except that Wyatt and Flynn weren’t mean at all. She just couldn’t ask them to love her back.

“It’s all right,” Mom soothed, stroking her hair. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass.”

Lucy hoped so. She really, really hoped so.

She wrote her first entry in the journal that night.

 _I’m in love with my best friend and his boyfriend,_ she wrote.

God, she hoped nobody ever read this.

* * *

“I’m in love with her too,” Wyatt said.

They were lying in bed. Rufus had a thing with his mentor—he refused to tell Flynn who his mentor was in case Flynn started, quote, ‘acting weird about it’—and so he was going to just stay the night at the guy’s apartment.

That meant that Wyatt and Flynn had been able to do whatever they damn well wanted.

Right now, after nearly breaking Flynn’s desk because those things were not meant to withstand the weight of two young adult men having sex on it, they were lying on top of each other, not bothering to wear pajamas, and Wyatt was reminded all over again that Flynn’s heartbeat in his ear was the most soothing sound in the world.

Flynn combed his fingers through Wyatt’s sweat-damp hair. They should take a shower, but maybe later. When he could move his legs again. “You don’t have to, just because I do.”

“Fuck you, it’s not because of you. Okay, maybe it is, but only because—because you saying it sort of… gave me permission, I guess, to realize that for myself.” He tilted his head back until he could look Flynn in the eye. “She’s fantastic, Flynn. You know that. And I… yeah.”

The times he had been tempted to kiss her today weren’t even worth counting. He’d lose track. Now that he was letting himself think about it, he knew what the warmth inside of him when he looked at Lucy was. What it always had been. He couldn’t blame Flynn at all for loving her.

And then came a whole new question.

“…what do we do about it?” Wyatt asked.

Flynn sighed. “I don’t know. People don’t… I don’t know of anyone who’s like us.”

“Did you miss the whole Pride parade thing or…”

“Not being bisexual, you dumbass, I meant… able to love like this. I love you and I love Lucy. I mean, there’s polygamy, like the Mormons or whatever…”

“Dude, that’s creepy.”

“No, I know, that’s not what… that’s one guy with a bunch of women and I don’t want that. I don’t know anyone who can love two people, like this. And I don’t think… Lucy could. I mean, how could she?”

Wyatt had to agree. “This is assuming she’d like either of us.”

“Trust me, I’m not assuming that. Apparently she spent the first semester she knew me thinking I hated her. I don’t exactly have high hopes, here. Or any hopes at all.” Flynn lightly ran his fingers up and down Wyatt’s shoulder. “And… I couldn’t choose. Between either of you. But if I had to, I’d pick you. Because you’re the one who’s been with me—you’re my family.”

“You’re mine,” Wyatt promised.

“Lucy will find someone,” Flynn said. “She’s bound to.”

Wyatt felt an inordinate sense of relief. Lucy would find someone. She was amazing, there had to be several other people in love with her already, they couldn’t be the only two saps on campus. But he would never… there was never going to be anyone who loved him like Flynn loved him. And nobody he loved like Flynn. If Flynn had chosen Lucy… Wyatt would’ve understood. It was _Lucy_ , after all. But Wyatt knew he never would’ve found anyone else.

“She doesn’t like us like that,” Flynn went on. “And we couldn’t ask her to put up with one of us if she didn’t like the other. And people are… they’re so easily jealous. It would be a mess.”

“We’ll just try and get over her?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah. It’ll… it’ll pass, right? It’s bound to.”

Wyatt nodded, settling down against Flynn’s chest again and closing his eyes. It would pass. They’d fall out of love with her, and Lucy would just be their good friend. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault that Wyatt and Flynn were weird, and greedy, and wanted a second person. He felt guilty for it, so guilty, but at least he wasn’t alone in it. At least he and Flynn were greedy together, and they’d just be quiet about it, and it would pass.

It had to.

* * *

Lucy stared hard at the phone, unsure if she should hit dial or not.

Just because last year she’d been invited didn’t mean she was sure she was welcome this year. If she asked then of course they’d say yes, because the Flynns were good people, but would they really want her to come? Or would they just do it because they were generous?

It was probably a bad idea anyway.

But…

Well, Maria _had_ said that if Lucy ever needed anything she should call.

Lucy picked up the phone and dialed, holding the phone close to her ear. It rang a few times, and she wondered if Asher and Maria were off at work, but then someone picked up the line.

“Hello, Flynn residence, Maria speaking.”

Lucy sighed in relief. “Hi, Maria, it’s Lucy.”

“Lucy!” Maria sounded delighted. “How are you?”

“I’m… I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. “My mom and I aren’t really talking right now.” It was an impressive feat, given that they lived in the same house, but they were managing it.

“That’s distressing. What’s wrong?”

“She… she wants what’s best for me.” Or so Mom said. “But she thinks that means she has to tell me how to live my life, and… I can’t do that.”

“Mmm. My mother could be like that too, sometimes.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Well… I’m afraid she didn’t really give me a choice. When I married Gabriel’s father, my mother disowned me. I never spoke to her again. I tried, sometimes. I wanted her to know her grandson. I was sure if she just met Gabriel she’d love him. Then when I married Asher… I tried again, but she approved of him even less. I wasn’t able to reconcile with her before her death.”

“Oh.” That was depressing. “I’m so sorry.” Lucy loved her mother, no matter how frustrating their relationship was, and she didn’t want to stop speaking to her. She still wanted to find a way to keep her mom in her life.

“I’ve made my peace with it, Lucy, because it was her choice, not mine. There comes a time where we have to realize that we can’t control other people, and they will make choices that we can’t change or stop. Those choices are on them, and have shockingly little to do with us. This isn’t really about you. It’s about your mother. You’re not to blame, here.”

Lucy hadn’t realized how much she needed someone to tell her that until Maria said it. “Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“You all go on winter break next week, right?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to spend Christmas with us again?”

“I… if you want me.” Amy wouldn’t be able to come since her winter break for high school was shorter than the one colleges gave, but Lucy would find a way to make it up to her.

“Of course we want you. You’re always welcome here. Think of this as your home.”

Lucy’s eyes got hot and she wiped at them. “Thank you, Maria.”

“Of course. Have yourself a good cry, write in a journal if you have one, and treat yourself to something. Be gentle with yourself, Lucy. You’re worth more than you let yourself believe.”

Lucy gave a wet laugh. “How do you know just the thing to say?”

“Because I once needed to hear it,” Maria replied. “We look forward to having you for Christmas, Lucy.”

“I look forward to being there.”

She hung up feeling much warmer and lighter inside, already looking forward to talking to Flynn about flying back on the same flight as him.

What she didn’t expect was Maria showing up at Stanford.

* * *

Maria knocked politely on the office door. _Professor Carol Preston_ read the name on the plaque. _American and Modernist History_.

“Come in,” said the voice beyond.

Maria had never heard Carol’s voice before, although she had seen a couple pictures of her when she’d looked up the Stanford University website. She and Lucy had similar strong noses and angular faces, but overall Maria thought Carol looked more like her younger daughter, Amy, who Lucy had shown Maria pictures of last Christmas.

Carol looked up as Maria entered. “You don’t look like one of my students,” she said wryly.

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m the mother of one of your students. Garcia Flynn? Your daughter Lucy graced us with her presence last year at Christmas.” Maria smiled warmly, closing the door behind her.

She’d felt like this once before, when she had been at the house of Jeb Logan. That time, she’d been planning murder. One quick jab and insert of the syringe, and the worthless, heinous man’s life had finally been over. He would never hurt Wyatt again—Wyatt was safe, now, safe with her, with his real family.

Jeb, of course, had hit Wyatt. He’d terrorized the boy. Carol didn’t do that. But she was controlling, trying to make Lucy be who she wanted her to be, rather than letting Lucy become whoever she wanted to be. A child was a living creature who deserved their own dreams and sense of self. They weren’t a projection of their parent and they weren’t a toy.

Lucy was her own person. Not a vessel for her mother’s ambitions.

“I was wondering if I could ask your permission for Lucy to stay with us for Christmas again this year,” Maria said. She remained standing.

Carol looked up at her. Maria could see that Carol thought that remaining sitting gave her the power, like a queen on her throne. From this position, however, Maria loomed over her just a bit. Carol Preston was a lot smarter than Jeb Logan.

“Interesting that you’re asking my permission,” Carol noted. “Last year Lucy simply told me she was going as she walked out the door with her suitcase.”

“It was a last-minute decision that Lucy made,” Maria replied. “Which is her right, as an adult. She seems to make a lot of last-minute decisions.”

“Perhaps she should plan better.”

“Or perhaps people shouldn’t stop her from doing what she really wants to do until she’s forced to make a choice last-minute to prevent more pushback or manipulation.”

Carol raised an eyebrow. Maria smiled back at her.

“Are you accusing me of something, Mrs. Flynn?” Carol asked.

“Maria, please. And I’m not accusing anyone of anything. Merely stating an observation. It’s unfortunate if you see it as an accusation—but we so often only hear and see what we want to in other people, isn’t that right?”

“Mmm, I suppose so. I suppose that makes some of us feel we have a right to intervene and present opinions where they aren’t needed.”

“It’s so true, especially in the lives of our children, even when they’re grown and able to make choices for themselves.”

Carol flushed, realizing she had walked into that one. “Better than making choices for other people’s children.”

“Oh, I never _speak_ for my children, or for anyone else’s children. But I will _advocate_ for them when their voices are not being heard. Lucy’s expressed a wish to stay with me for Christmas and I’m sure there’s no reason she can’t have that wish fulfilled.”

“Lucy is going into her senior year. She needs to finish applying for graduate schools.”

“I’d be happy to help her.”

“Maria,” Carol said, in the same tone that visitors to the space center would use when they thought she was the secretary, “a graduate school application is vitally important to the career of a historian.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Just as my graduate school applications were very important as a physicist at NASA,” Maria replied.

Carol stared at her, clearly taken aback. “Pardon?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maria laughed. “I use my maiden name in my scientific work. Maria Tompkins.”

Carol blanched.

“I’d be more than happy to help Lucy prepare her essays for her applications while she’s staying with us. We take academics very seriously in our house. My oldest son has his graduate degree in art history and my youngest son just passed his mechanics certification.”

She and Asher had patiently drilled Wyatt with that, since he’d been panicking daily about it.

“I… I’m glad to hear it,” Carol said, clearly scrambling.

“I just think Lucy is such a bright woman, and such a hard worker. It distresses me to see that she’s been so out of sorts lately. I think a change of scenery would be good for her.” Maria kept up the polite tone and the light smile. “And as her mother I’m sure you want what’s best for her.”

“What’s best for Lucy, of course.” Some of that smoothness returned to Carol’s voice. “And I know what’s best for her.”

“No,” Maria said, and she finally let the polite mask drop. “I don’t think you do.”

She leaned in just a little. Just enough. “Unless… you do know what’s best for her, and you have decided to advise her against it, because it’s not what you want. I would hate for that to be the case—for you to be putting your own wishes ahead of what is healthy, and good, for your daughter.”

Carol stood up, her composure cracking. “Are you accusing me—”

“I’m only speculating, not accusing.” Maria tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, like Carol was a particularly frustrating rocket booster. “You claim to know what’s best for Lucy. Then let her do what is best for her.”

“And what’s best for her is spending the holidays with you, a family she didn’t even know until last year, rather than her own flesh and blood?”

“Yes.”

The bluntness of her answer seemed to shock Carol. Maria flicked away an invisible speck of dirt from her slacks. “I’m afraid I must be going. I have a meeting with the Dean of Academics about doing some guest lecturing in the spring. Of course it’s a long way to travel but he and I are such dear friends, I can make an exception.” She smiled again. “I can’t wait to see Lucy for Christmas. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, after hearing so much about you.”

With that, she turned and walked smartly back out of the office before Carol could get her thoughts in order enough to reply.

* * *

Wyatt grinned, waiting with Asher for Maria, Flynn, and Lucy to touch down. They had all gotten a flight back home together, and he hadn’t told Flynn or Lucy about the snow.

Lucy had apparently only seen snow in the mountains when she’d gone on day trips with her family. But now, this year, it was finally cold enough for it, and they’d gotten a good couple inches last night. The entire city was freaking out about it.

They had to wait by the curb, now, because of the stricter security laws at airports. Wyatt shivered a little, hands in his pockets, while Asher stood patiently by.

The automatic doors opened and Wyatt heard his name, followed by a small brunette blur flinging herself at him like a bullet fired out of a gun. He caught Lucy automatically, swinging her around a bit, grinning. “Heya baby doll, long time no see.”

Lucy kissed him soundly on the cheek. “We missed you!”

Strong arms wrapped around him and Lucy pulled away as Flynn turned him for a hug. Wyatt wanted to kiss him so fucking badly, but they were in public, and you couldn’t be too careful. So he settled for a tight, bone-crushing hug instead. Flynn’s smell was always the first thing to hit him, a sense memory stronger than anything else, like pine trees and leather.

“What, no hug for me?” Maria teased.

“I saw you just a couple weeks ago, Mom,” Wyatt said, but he hugged her tightly anyway.

“I saw snow out the window as we landed,” Lucy said. “Is that right? Did it snow?”

“You’re going to get a white Christmas,” Asher promised her.

Lucy’s eyes lit up like stars.

* * *

Lucy was sound asleep in the basement when a warm hand gently shook her. “Lucy. Pssst. Wake up.”

“Mmm.” She’d had dreams that started like this, with Flynn waking her, his voice deep and soft like velvet. But in those dreams when she opened her eyes Flynn was wearing a lot less clothing. “What… what is it?”

Gabriel’s flight had gotten in late tonight, and Flynn had volunteered to stay awake to pick him up from the airport. Lucy sat up in the darkness, wondering if something had gone wrong.

Flynn was still wearing his winter gear, but he was smiling. “Put on your coat.”

Behind Flynn, she saw Wyatt, also dressed in winter gear. “Why?”

“It’s a surprise.” Flynn winked at her, and oh, she’d do whatever he wanted if he’d wink at her all soft and teasing like that again.

She got dressed in rapid silence and followed them up through the silence house, creeping out the front door and into Wyatt’s car, where Flynn had put a thermos of hot chocolate with the extra-large marshmallows that Lucy loved. They drove up, out of town, up towards a hill, with a large ancient tree on top.

“We used to come out here all the time, growing up,” Wyatt explained as he killed the engine. “To stargaze.”

“In winter?”

“Not usually. But tonight’s special.” Flynn got out of the car and opened the door for her.

Lucy got out, boots crunching on the snow, and Flynn helped her to sit on the warm hood of the car, passing her the thermos and cups, and then helping Wyatt scramble on before getting on himself. They stretched out, Lucy pressed up between them, getting most of the warmth, and Wyatt pulled a blanket up over their legs as Flynn poured the hot chocolate.

“Look up,” Wyatt murmured.

It took her a moment, but then she saw a streak across the night sky, and she gasped. There were so many more stars here, out away from the city, and they scattered across the night sky like a swath of diamonds.

There was another streak, then another, then another. Lucy felt a smile spreading across her face, even as her cheeks stung with cold.

“Meteor shower,” Flynn said. “Mom told us about it.”

Lucy settled more comfortably against the boys, sipping her coco and marshmallows, and watched the silver streaks zoom across the sky. None of them spoke, just sat there in silence, until Lucy drained her cup and her head started to feel heavy and she tilted it to the side to rest it on Flynn’s shoulder.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, because she dreamed that they were still out there, cuddled together, watching the stars dance. But when she woke up, she was somehow just back in the basement, curled up under her blankets, her boots and jackets neatly set aside.

If she hadn’t already known she loved them, she would have discovered it that night, when they took her to their special place, their Wyatt-and-Flynn-only place, and showed her the universe.

* * *

Flynn tried not to glower as he watched Lucy and Gabriel chatting it up about the Lost Generation, but it was hard not to. They were all out in the snow supposedly to pick a Christmas tree, but Mom and Papa were doing that thing where they held hands and smiled at each other and basically forgot literally anything else in the world existed. So God only knew how long it would take them to actually, you know, find a tree and chop it down.

Flynn was so busy eavesdropping on Gabriel and Lucy, that he wasn’t paying attention to Wyatt.

Which was always a dumb mistake.

“Hey, Flynn!” was all the warning he got right before a large, freezing cold ball of snow smacked him right in the face.

He stumbled back as Wyatt laughed uproariously. Oh, hell no. That little shit was going to rue the day.

Flynn wiped the snow off his face and stalked towards him, and Wyatt’s mirth quickly morphed into an amusing mix of arousal and fear. “Uh, Flynn…”

He turned to run but Flynn was faster, tackling him into the snow and rubbing his face in it. Wyatt yelled and snarled, twisting around to roll them over, shoving more snow into Flynn’s face, like they were squabbling kids all over again.

At last, he got Wyatt’s hands pinned, and grinned down at him. “Gotcha.”

Wyatt arched an eyebrow at him. “Whatcha gonna do with me then?”

Flynn kissed him, because of course that was what he was going to do with him. Wyatt’s mouth was warm and soft compared to the cold, snowy world around them. “I’m going to make you really pay for that tonight,” he warned.

It was hard to get up to sex with your boyfriend when you were sharing a house with your parents, your older brother, and your close friend—especially when you were in love with that friend and sometimes got your boyfriend off by telling him how you’d tag-team with that friend to make him scream and beg for it. Flynn was well aware that his number one talent in the bedroom was dirty talk and he’d worked hard to cultivate that talent, dammit.

But difficult or not, they made it work, because it was either that or be celibate for all four years of college and no way was Flynn going that long without fucking Wyatt. No way no how.

Wyatt shivered against him, his pupils expanding and making his eyes wide and dark—

And then a snowball smacked Flynn in the back of the head.

“The fuck!?” he swore, whipping around and getting up onto his knees.

Gabriel had his hands up in an _it wasn’t me_ gesture while Lucy grinned very, very guiltily.

Flynn got to his feet. “Oh, that’s how you want to play it?”

“Oh no!” Lucy shrieked, taking off through the trees.

Flynn scooped up some snow. “You can’t hide from me, Preston!”

“Yes, she can, you’re wearing all black, it makes you ridiculously easy to find!”

“Not helping, Wyatt!”

Gabriel just laughed at the whole thing.

Flynn tore after her, flinging snowballs and getting some right back, chasing her until his long legs got the best of her and he scooped her up as Lucy shrieked, carrying her back to the group over his shoulder. “Hey, look what I found in the woods!”

“Put! Me! Down! Garcia Flynn!” Lucy pounded at his back with her fists.

“You threw the snowball,” Gabriel pointed out. “You started it.”

“Wyatt!”

Wyatt put his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me, I know which side my bread’s buttered.”

“More like who gives him dick,” Lucy muttered, just loud enough for Flynn to hear and burst out laughing hard enough he had to set her back down.

“What is up with you four?” Mom called out. “We found a tree!”

“Because you were making out under it?” Gabriel asked.

Gabriel had met Asher when he was eight and had gotten to know him first as a ‘family friend’ then as ‘Mama’s special friend’ and finally as ‘Dad’. He didn’t, as a result, have the same _ew it’s my parents kissing_ reaction that Flynn did when Mom and Papa were being… well, Mom and Papa.

“None of your business,” Mom replied, which meant yes.

Flynn grinned, catching Wyatt’s hand with his. “C’mon then.”

Lucy worked her hand out of her glove and brushed the snow out of his hair. “There you go,” she said, smiling.

Flynn’s heart skipped a beat. “Thanks,” he said, and he forced himself to keep moving before he did something phenomenally stupid, like kiss her.

* * *

“You mean it?” Lucy asked, slowing down for the turn, her windshield wipers working frantically. “I was really good?”

She’d started singing during open mic nights, encouraged by Rufus, Flynn, Wyatt and Amy. Mom didn’t know about them. Not yet. But she’d felt like tonight had been good. Maybe good enough that her crazy dream of doing this professionally might not be so crazy after all.

“Lucy, when have I ever lied to you,” Flynn replied over the phone. She had him on speaker, the phone in her lap.

Lucy squinted, trying to see through the headlights. It was raining like crazy. “Do you think I should… I should talk to my mom?”

“I think you should do what makes you happy,” Flynn answered. The connection was getting fuzzy, but she could still hear him well enough. “And I think that if you try to keep it from her, it’ll just make it worse in the end because you had a secret.”

That was fair. She just really, really didn’t want to have this conversation with her mom. Not when she knew how it was going to go. “Can I practice with you?”

“Of course,” Flynn said—and that was when her tires skidded over a wet patch and ran over the water, not the road.

Lucy tried to keep control as her tires locked and the back of the car fishtailed, spinning out—she screamed—she heard Flynn yell over the phone—

The phone flew up into the air, so did her hair and her hands, as the car went over the cliff.

She screamed again, she had seconds before she hit the water. “I’m over, I went over, I went over into the water, Flynn, I went over—”

The car smacked the water and started to sink.

“Lu—Lucy—cy—Lu—” Flynn was starting to break up.

No, no, no, she couldn’t die here, she couldn’t die here!

Flynn was still talking. “Get the window—window down—Lucy—”

Window down, right, right!

She undid her seatbelt and started putting the window down before the water got into the car and the electricity no longer worked. All around her was blackness. It was like staring into the mouth of the void, and Lucy had never seen anything more terrifying in her life.

The phone had cut out. She grabbed it, even though the water would destroy it, and her purse. Taking a deep breath, the deepest she could, she wiggled out, kicking up, her heels falling away into the blackness. She didn’t care, losing her shoes was fine, she just had to get out of here.

The surface seemed so far away. Her purse, her clothes, it all weighed her down. But if she got out of this—when, when she got out of this—she had to have her wallet, her ID.

She swam up, and up, her lungs burning, everything black. What if she was swimming the wrong way? There was no sunlight, it was night out, what if she got turned around somehow? What if the car flipped and she didn’t know it? What if she was disoriented? What if…

Her head broke the surface and she gasped, each breath feeling like fire.

There were headlights up above her on the cliff. Someone had seen.

“Help!” she screamed. “Help!” She couldn’t tread water forever, but someone had seen her. Someone was coming.

She was alive.

* * *

Flynn burst into the emergency room lobby. “Lucy Preston, she was admitted about ten minutes ago? I need to—”

The exhausted nurse just pointed down the hallway. Flynn tore down the corridor, skidding to a halt when he saw another nurse walking out of a room. “Lucy Preston, the girl, her car went over the cliff—”

The nurse eyed him, apparently decided he wasn’t a serial killer, and opened another door, ushering him in.

Lucy was sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows, her nose red and tissues all around her.

Flynn’s legs nearly gave out. Thank Christ.

He’d called emergency services the moment his call to Lucy had died, telling them what road she’d been taking. Thank God they’d taken that road together plenty of times to get to her open mic night so he knew where she was. The dispatcher had been kind enough to stay on the phone with him and let him know when the fire and rescue crew had gotten to her, and what hospital they’d take her to.

He had to call Carol. Amy. Someone. Although the hospital had probably already done that. But first he had to see—he had to make sure she was okay.

Lucy saw him and smiled wanly. “Garcia.”

He’d never heard her use his first name before.

Flynn stumbled over, sitting on the edge of her bed, taking her hands in his. “You’re cold.”

“I just got in. They’ve been warming me up but they think I got pneumonia. I was in the water for a while.”

Flynn couldn’t help himself—he kissed the top of her head. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll just need rest.”

“There was a fire and rescue team there, when I broke the surface,” Lucy said. “They said my friend called. You called them.”

“Of course I did.”

“You told me to get the window open.”

Flynn nodded. “Wyatt… he drove his dad’s car into the lake. I asked him how he got out of the car. He said he put the windows down before the water got to them and climbed out. He… he was a drug runner for a few months. Literally out-driving the cops. He learned a lot about what to do—if your car flips, if it catches on fire, that sort of thing.”

“I couldn’t have gotten out of there if you hadn’t told me that. I was panicking.”

“Hey, hey, totally understandable.” Flynn stroked her still-damp hair. Lucy was far too pale for his liking right now. “Have you eaten?”

Lucy shook her head.

“I’ll get you something. Are you warm enough?”

Lucy nodded. She clutched at his hands. “You saved my life, Garcia. I—I can’t ever—”

“You’re my friend, Lucy. Of course. You don’t owe me anything.” Those moments where he feared he’d lost her, those horrible moments hanging on the line with the dispatcher, waiting for the woman to tell him if the fire and rescue team was hauling up a living woman or a corpse, were the worst of his life.

He squeezed her hands. “I’ll be right back. You just rest.”

Lucy smiled at him, grateful and tired, and sank back into the pillows.

Once he got out of the room, he called Wyatt.

“Hey.” It was late, and even later in Texas, two time zones over. “Everything okay?”

Flynn’s vision blurred as tears stung his eyes. “Lucy—she almost died. Wyatt, she—she almost died.”

He told the whole story as Wyatt made soothing noises, and cried quietly, and then went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. He got Lucy food, and put on a happy face, only to find Carol and Amy there when he returned.

Flynn just dropped off the food and made himself scarce. Lucy needed her mom right now, and her sister, not a friend.

He cried a lot, though, over the next week, his chest seizing up in terror over what might have happened, what had almost happened, what would have happened if he hadn’t been on the phone with her.

And Lucy…

Lucy didn’t drop out of college to become a singer and join a band. She continued her history major.

Flynn wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

* * *

“I think he likes you,” Amy said as they ordered their coffees at their usual spot.

“Who?” Lucy asked. If this was about Flynn again, she was going to tear her hair out. She had gotten her feelings for the two boys down to a… a manageable level. Or so she told herself. She was used to it by now, used to loving them and not expecting it in return.

After her accident it had gotten harder. She’d nearly died, and she’d been tempted to tell them how she felt. But… what would that do? It would’ve been about her getting her feelings off her chest, not about them.

Flynn had been so good to her, looking after her, checking up on her without smothering her the way Mom had. Wyatt had called every day and would make her laugh, distracting her from her nightmares of deep, black water that never ended and being trapped in a small, cramped car from which she couldn’t escape no matter how hard she banged her fists.

It was tempting to imagine, sometimes, that they wanted more, felt more, the way that she did. But that would’ve been making assumptions about their friendship and she wasn’t going to do that. It would’ve made her no different from the men who thought she was flirting with them just because she smiled at them and was polite.

“The barista,” Amy said. “The tall brunet.”

Lucy glanced at the man in question. He looked to be about her age, and he was handsome in a very calm and nonthreatening kind of way. He looked like the kind of guy who wore warm sweaters and let you steal fries off his plate.

Lucy smiled at him. The guy blushed a little and smiled back.

Huh.

When they got their coffees, hers had a number written on the side, next to a name: Noah.

Well… it couldn’t hurt to go on a date with him. Since the men she really wanted weren’t an option.

Noah was a pre-med student. He was soft spoken, kind, and an animal lover. He preferred cats over dogs, he spoke Italian, and his favorite Jane Austen book was _Sense & Sensibility_.

Dating him was nice. It was safe. He was everything Mom could’ve hoped for her daughter, and everything that probably anyone would’ve wanted in a boyfriend.

It was all… very nice.

* * *

Lucy folded up some more clothes and put them into her suitcase. “I don’t understand why this is such an issue for you,” she told Noah, who was standing on the opposite side of the room with his arms folded. “I’ve spent the last couple of Christmases with them.”

“Which is fine, but if you don’t want to spend Christmas with your family, then why not spend it with me and my parents?” Noah replied.

“Because they are my family, Noah.” Lucy added some socks to her suitcase. “I know they’re not related to me but they’ve been my family more than… more than my mom has, these past few years. And I want to spend Christmas with them.”

“With two men you’re close friends with.”

Lucy squinted at him. “Yes? And?”

Noah stared at her. “Lucy, you’re always talking to them, or about them, and you’re going to spend Christmas with them instead of with me, your boyfriend—”

“I’m going to spend Christmas with my family.” Lucy closed her suitcase with a snap. “And you’re invited too, by the way. Maria said you’re more than welcome. And for your information, I sleep in the basement, as far away from Wyatt and Flynn’s room as I could possibly get, and in case you forgot, Noah, they’re gay. They’re gay, as in, they like men. They’re more likely to want to sleep with you than with me.”

Noah shook his head. “Are you sure you shouldn’t stay here and try to work things out with your mom? I know she’s tough but she cares about you, and…”

“I’m not running away, Noah, I’m taking a goddamn break. I’m with her all the rest of the year. I go to school where she’s one of my professors. I’m her TA. I live with her. I help her prepare lecture notes when she visits other universities and I worked as her research assistant on her books growing up. My life is so entangled with hers I might as well be an extension of her. I can take a month out of the year to go and be with people who make me feel happy.”

Noah didn’t say anything, although he still looked hurt. “Well, I like my family, so I’m going to spend the holidays with them.”

“And that’s your choice and I support it.” Lucy sighed, hefting her suitcase off the bed. “I’ll call you Christmas day, all right?”

She kissed his cheek and started to lug her suitcase down the stairs.

* * *

Lucy was pacing up and down in the living room, the animated _Grinch Who Stole Christmas_ special playing in the background. “—and then I had to remind him that you’re gay, and—”

Wyatt had only been half-listening as Lucy went off about Noah again. Flynn could tell by the way that his eyes were glazed. But Wyatt snapped to attention, as did Flynn, when Lucy said that last bit.

“Wait, what?” Wyatt asked, as Flynn realized that he might have forgotten to explain something important to Lucy.

“Lucy, we’re not gay,” Flynn told her.

Lucy paused. “Of course you are. You’re dating each other.”

“Yeah, but—we like women, too,” Wyatt said. “I dated Jess, you know I dated Jess!”

“I thought that was an… in the closet, denial, type thing?”

Flynn and Wyatt both shook their heads. “As ill-advised as it was, he was very into Jess.”

Lucy gaped at them. “Oh,” she said, in a very small voice. “So you… like women.”

Flynn and Wyatt nodded.

Papa stuck his head into the living room. “Who wants cookies?”

Wyatt leapt up off the couch, and Flynn exhaled slowly, grateful for the distraction, because he had no idea what the look on Lucy’s face meant and it scared him.

* * *

Wyatt clapped so fucking hard that his hands hurt as Rufus, then Flynn, and then Lucy, each took their turns walking across the stage to accept their diplomas.

They’d done it. They’d done it! Four years of hard work—especially Rufus, the poor guy—and now they had graduated. It was over.

Well. It was over for undergrad, anyway.

Rufus had been accepted to MIT and was going there to get his masters in electrical engineering and computer science, and possibly also mechanical engineering because Rufus was an overachiever. So was Flynn, actually. And Lucy. That was probably why the three of them got along so damn well.

Flynn was going to Berlin to study modernist history of the Slavic states, and Wyatt was going to go with him. Every town needed a good mechanic, he spoke damn near fluent German, and he might not be able to open up his own garage yet—what was the point of doing that if he was going to only be in a place for a few years while Flynn got his degree—but he was sure to find a place that was hiring. Fucking finally, they’d get to have their own place, even if it was a crappy studio somewhere.

Lucy… Lucy wasn’t sure.

She’d been accepted automatically into Stanford’s masters program thanks to Carol, who was really fucking pushing for that, or pushing Harvard or Yale or another Ivy League as a second choice. She wanted Lucy to study American history. But Lucy had also been accepted to Oxford, and Wyatt knew that was where her heart lay.

He just hoped that she’d follow that, instead of caving to her mother.

Flynn got off the stage and Wyatt hugged him so tightly he heard Flynn grunt a little in pain. “You’re going to crack a rib, idiot.”

“You can handle it.”

“Let some of us have a turn,” Maria said.

“Like you won’t just hug both of us at once if I don’t let go,” Wyatt replied, still holding onto Flynn.

Maria’s response was to grab him by the ear and tug him back.

“Ouch, ow, geez, Mom, okay!” Wyatt released Flynn and let Maria have her turn as Asher stood by proudly.

Lucy flew over towards them, having said hi to her mother, Amy, and Noah, and Wyatt caught her as she flung herself at him. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks!” Lucy snuggled in—she did that when she hugged him and Flynn, burrowing herself in like she was going to stay there for the rest of her life. Wyatt wouldn’t have minded if she had.

He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t hug Noah that way, and he felt a bit of vicious pride and glee at the fact. Noah was a nice guy, a great guy, honestly, very attractive and kind and all that. But Wyatt couldn’t stop the hot, bitter monster that rose in his gut when Lucy and Noah were together.

It did help that Lucy was currently nuzzling into Wyatt’s chest like a cat, her hands in his pockets. Wyatt smirked a little. She might be dating Noah, but she still liked cuddling Wyatt and Flynn best. He couldn’t help it if he gave better hugs than her boyfriend. It was just how it was.

Of course, in this position, Lucy could probably hear his racing heart. But at least this way she’d put it down to his excitement over them graduating. Lucy being a cuddlebug was adorable and he loved it, guilty pleasure or not, but it wasn’t a sign of anything. Lucy was just a tactile person. And he had to be careful how much he showed her of his feelings. Same with Flynn.

Lucy pulled away, and turned to hug Flynn, throwing herself at him and forcing Flynn to catch her. She burrowed into his chest as Flynn wrapped his arms around her, the two of them clinging tightly, full of relief after graduating, and Wyatt’s heart felt so full he wasn’t even sure he could physically survive it. Watching his two favorite people in the world hugging so tightly and happily was just… it was a lot.

“My parents are taking us out to dinner,” Flynn said. “Do you want to join us?”

Lucy glanced over at her mom and Amy. “I… my family has a party planned. But you’re welcome to come to the party, after your dinner.”

“We’d love to,” Maria said, smiling warmly.

Lucy smiled back. Lucy loved Maria, and Wyatt didn’t blame her. The way Lucy looked at Maria reminded Wyatt of how he’d felt looking at her as a child, thinking that Maria had to be an angel.

“I should go say hi to Rufus and his family,” Flynn said.

“I’ll join,” Wyatt added.

His hand brushed against Flynn’s. They were careful, still. This was a large crowd, who knew what kind of people might be here. But that wouldn’t be forever. In just a few short months they’d be in Berlin, and from what Flynn had been telling him, Berlin was going to be nothing like Texas or even California. Berlin was going to be amazing.

Lucy wouldn’t be there, but. Still.

It would be amazing.

* * *

It had been a long time in coming.

Lucy was only shocked that she didn’t really feel anything when it happened.

She was sitting with Noah on the front porch of her house, on the swing, not talking, just… sitting. It struck her that she could sit with Wyatt and Flynn and say nothing, do nothing, and it was comfortable and warm, but with Noah it just felt odd and stilted.

“I think I want to go to Europe,” she said. “To Oxford. Not—I mean, of course Yale is amazing, and Harvard is Harvard, and all that, but… I want to get out of the United States.”

Noah hummed.

“And Flynn and Wyatt will be in Berlin, that’s not too far away…”

“So you’re going to Europe for Wyatt and Flynn.”

That startled her. She looked over at Noah. “No, but it’s nice that my two closest friends won’t be too far.”

Noah had that look on his face where he was unhappy but trying not to show it, and something… something in her just crumbled away. “I think we need to break up.”

Noah looked at her. “What?”

“I think we need to break up,” she repeated, the words coming out more firmly this time. “I want to go to Europe, to Oxford, and I can’t do a long-distance relationship. And I think—I think you know that we’re not meant for this long-term.”

Noah stared at her for a moment, and she saw sadness in his eyes, but she also saw defeat. “I see.”

It didn’t occur to her until later that night, after she’d called Flynn and cried through telling him about it, that Noah hadn’t even tried to change her mind.

* * *

Berlin was the greatest fucking place in the whole fucking world.

Wyatt fucking loved Berlin. He loved everything about it. He loved the museums, and the crazy nightlife, and the language, and the weather, and the thriving post-wall culture. He loved the graffiti and the fashion and the music. He loved the funky energy, the feeling of joyful chaos that pulsed underneath it all like a beating heart. And he especially loved that he could walk down any damn street he pleased while holding his boyfriend’s hand, and nobody said shit about it.

They got a little one-bedroom flat, and Wyatt found a job as a mechanic at a local garage, and they made it work. Flynn was stressed as all hell half the time (okay, most of the time) but Wyatt had known Flynn since he was an elementary school asshole and he knew all the different ways to help Flynn to de-stress.

Oh, that was the other thing.

They could be _loud_.

Sure, yeah, Wyatt didn’t want to piss off the neighbors, but he could moan and cry out Flynn’s name, and they could take their time, Flynn could tease him and do all kinds of things to him that they couldn’t when they were having to rush because Maria and/or Asher might come home at any moment. And Jesus Christ, did Flynn have ideas. So many ideas. Wyatt had actually fucking cried during sex a couple times because it was so good and so overwhelming and he’d felt like he was going to actually die from the stimulation.

He loved that the guy at the corner store recognized them and when only one of them showed up he’d ask how the other one, his boyfriend, was doing. He loved that everyone at work asked about Flynn and everyone at Flynn’s university asked about Wyatt.

He loved Flynn, so much, and he loved that now he could show it.

Berlin was the fucking best.

* * *

When Lucy had first decided to go to Oxford, she had told everyone else, including Amy, before she’d told Mom.

Mom had… taken it about as well as Lucy had expected, which was to say with a lot of passive-aggressive guilt-tripping.

But to her surprise, when she’d told Gabriel, he had offered for her to come and visit him in Paris. “Anytime that you want, Lucy. I’d be happy to show you around. I know some people, we can see some things that most museums won’t put on display.”

She had always liked Gabriel. He was thirty-six and seemed to have his life together in a way that she envied terribly. She knew that Flynn felt a bit inadequate next to Gabriel, which she never understood because Flynn was perfectly wonderful just as he was, but she understood why people could be intimidated by Gabriel, with his good looks, his fancy art job and his sophisticated manner.

And so, well, after she moved into Oxford and found that she missed Amy, and missed the familiarity of home, and missed Wyatt and Flynn, she called Gabriel.

“Can I come and visit for the weekend?” she asked.

“I said anytime, didn’t I?” Gabriel replied.

He picked her up from the train station after she took the Channel Tunnel, smiling and taking her bag for her. “I’m surprised you’re coming to visit me before you went to see Wyatt and Garcia.”

A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it. “I… well. Yes. I wanted to see Paris. I’ve always wanted to come here.”

Gabriel gave her a glance out of the side of his eyes that was far too knowing. “Well, who can blame you? Let’s get your bag to my flat and we’ll explore a bit.”

Gabriel proved himself the perfect tour guide, not that she had expected anything less, and the day passed pleasantly enough. More pleasantly than any of her previous days had been, lately. She was making friends in Oxford, but none of it was healing the hole in her chest, the one that was shaped by two particular people.

She should have known that Gabriel would bring them back to that subject.

They had a meal at his place, one that he made, because, quote, “you look like you could use a home cooked meal, _chérie_.” It was good, and Lucy accepted a glass of wine as she sat back on one end of the couch, admiring the artwork hanging up all around her.

Gabriel sat on the other end. “Now, my dear, you know I hate to pry. But when my brother mentions that he hasn’t heard from you much since Christmas, and you’ve broken up with your boyfriend, and now you’re coming to me before you go to Berlin… it does make a man wonder.”

Lucy swirled her wine around in her glass, unsure of how to begin. If anyone would understand, it was Gabriel. Every Christmas he arrived with new tales of the lovers he’d had. He wasn’t exactly competing with Victor Hugo for most sexually active person in history, or anything. But he had some regular people that he had on and off sexual relationships with, and he’d attended quite a few sex parties and had some threesomes in his time. He had never been shy about sharing those details.

But how did one tell a man that one was in love with his brother, and his pseudo-brother? Gabriel had as good as raised Wyatt as well, teaching him all about cars, and apparently (unbeknownst to Gabriel, as far as she knew) being Wyatt’s second in-real-life gay crush.

(His first in-real-life gay crush, which he had told Lucy and then sworn her to secrecy over, was Asher, but he’d gotten over that when he was about thirteen and viewed Asher entirely as a father figure now. Lucy was pretty sure Flynn didn’t know, because Flynn would’ve had some kind of meltdown over it.)

Gabriel watched her struggling, his eyes warm, until at last he said, “This is about how you’re in love with them, isn’t it?”

Lucy nearly dropped her wine glass. “How…”

“I’m afraid it’s not at all subtle. Unless you’re Wyatt and Garcia, who needed to be hit over the head with a sack of bricks to understand that the other one liked them, never mind the idea that a beautiful and radiant woman like yourself would like them as well.”

Lucy blushed at the compliments. “I… I can’t… it would be… dangerous to assume anything. And I thought I was handling it well, this whole time. Their friendship is valuable to me, I didn’t see it as a consolation prize. I was honored that they—that they love me like that.”

“But?” Gabriel coaxed gently. “What changed?”

“I thought for a long time they were gay,” Lucy said, and she hated the sniffle in her voice, “but turns out, they are bi, they just… they just don’t want me. Which is worse, even though I know it’s stupid to ask two people to love someone else, to add another person, but…”

Gabriel sighed, taking her wine glass from her. “Darling girl, if they don’t want you, then they’re both far stupider than I previously gave them credit for being. You shouldn’t feel stupid.” He carefully wiped away the tear that spilled down her cheek. “There, there, none of that. You should ask for what you want, Lucy. My mother would kill me for saying this to you but she’s been driving herself insane the last couple of years, watching you. She thinks you’re brilliant and that you should demand what you want more often, because you deserve what you want.”

Lucy stared at him, her mouth falling open. She’d had no idea.

“And besides,” Gabriel said, sitting back and taking a sip of his wine before setting it down. “Any man would be lucky to have you, Lucy. You need to stop looking at yourself as a wallflower and start realizing that you are an intelligent, educated, funny, kind, and beautiful person, and that people can and will beg to date you if you give them the chance. You’re a catch, not a consolation prize or a second choice.”

Lucy stared at him, the implication of his words sinking in. “Are you including yourself in that group?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I’m not sure if I’m the type who would make you happy for the rest of your life, and you want someone to be with for the rest of your life. But for a while, for a time, yes.” He looked at her directly, and she saw a hint of heat in his gaze. It sent a shudder through her, and she understood acutely, in a way she hadn’t before, why Wyatt and all the girls at his high school had fallen over themselves to get Gabriel’s attention. “When I say any man would be lucky to have you in his bed, Lucy, I’m most certainly including myself.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lucy crawled across the couch and slid her leg over to settle in Gabriel’s lap, took his face in her hands, and kissed him.

For a moment, it was glorious. His hands were large and firm, warm as they slid along her back, and he knew how to kiss, how to start slow and teasing, how to work his way up, giving her just a hint of tongue until she was open-mouthed and begging for it, and then he kissed her so deeply she could only whimper and let hot shivers work through her.

Gabriel was right in that he wasn’t what she wanted long-term. She wanted Wyatt. She wanted Flynn. But oh, he was skilled, and handsome, and she wanted him for tonight, for the weekend, she wanted that hard length she felt beneath her pressing up between her legs to get inside her, she wanted his tongue against her clit, she wanted…

Lucy made a small, mewling noise of surprise as Gabriel gently but firmly lifted her up and off of him, depositing her next to him on the couch.

“I thought—” Disappointment and rejection welled up in her. “You said—”

“Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be,” Gabriel replied, his voice quiet and rough. He brushed some of her hair back. “But you don’t want me, and despite all my ribbing, I do love my brother. I love both of them, very much. And you might not believe it, but it would hurt them beyond words if I slept with you, and I think you would regret it if you slept with me, because halfway through, you’d be pretending I was someone else.”

The hurt in her chest was so much, pressing up against the inside of her ribcage, her lungs, her throat, that she felt she might actually burst open with it, might crack and fall to pieces. Because Gabriel was right. And she so hated that he was.

“I’m going to bed.” Gabriel leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, like a benediction. “I suggest you do as well, _chérie_.”

She cried herself to sleep that night, in Gabriel’s spare bedroom. But if he heard her, he didn’t say anything about it, and in the morning… she felt better. It was the first time in years she’d cried about Wyatt and Flynn, and the first time she’d told someone about how she felt—Amy making guesses did not count—and when she got up and had breakfast with Gabriel and looked at him, she knew he had been right to stop them last night.

None of it made the ache inside of her, those two empty spots, go away. But it made it easier.

Easy enough to call Flynn and ask if she could visit them soon.

* * *

Because they were all in Europe, Mom had told Gabriel in no uncertain terms that he was going to be hosting Christmas this year, _since Garcia and Wyatt’s place is far too small._

“So glad I have a choice on the matter,” Gabriel had responded when Flynn had asked him about it.

They were set to take the train to Paris, but Flynn kind of wanted to go somewhere else as well on his Christmas break, to explore Europe while he still had the chance and it was all right there.

“We could go to the Christmas markets,” Wyatt said. “In Prague. It’s supposed to be the most beautiful city in Europe.”

He was lying on the bed while Flynn was sorting through their laundry. Flynn cleared his throat. “We could ask Lucy to come with us. She could use a break, too.”

Wyatt sat up. “Are you sure? She’s been a little… odd the last few months.”

Flynn agreed. He wasn’t sure if it was breaking up with Noah, or Carol’s behavior, or being in a new place, or her master’s studies, or a combination. Or perhaps something else altogether. But whatever the reason, Lucy had been a bit… distant, lately. Out of sorts. When she’d come to visit them a couple months ago it had been fun, of course. It had been lovely, because Lucy was always lovely. But he still worried. There was still something a bit off.

“If there’s something off, then I want to find out what it is. I want to help her. Maybe a vacation somewhere that’s neutral territory will help.”

Wyatt nodded. “Then of course I want her with us.”

Flynn had gotten so used to loving Lucy, and wanting her, that it just felt like an extension of himself. But just like he had forgotten just how much he missed Wyatt until he saw him again, so he forgot just how much he wanted Lucy until he saw her in person.

“It’s beautiful here!” she said breathlessly, smiling at them as they met up in front of their hotel. “We have to go to the Christmas markets and get something for the family.”

It would never stop warming his heart how she called his family hers as well.

“Of course. First thing, if you want.” Whatever Lucy wanted, they’d do. Whatever made her happy.

What made Lucy happy, it turned out, was visiting the archives, where she and Flynn got lost until Wyatt, loudly and passive-aggressively noting how lovely the castle and the Charles Bridge were and oh how much lovelier they would be if only he had _someone_ there _with him_ to _share it with_. What made Lucy happy was going to the teeming Christmas markets and stopping by every single stall. What made Lucy happy was going to St. Vitus Cathedral and sitting there, just staring up and around at everything, taking it all in.

Flynn, personally, struggled a bit with his faith. But being in a beautiful place like this always made it easier to believe that there was a higher power, and so he went up and dipped his fingers in the holy water, crossed himself, and muttered a prayer. These churches had been made so that the common man felt the touch of something divine, felt like he was closer to God, and those architects had damn well known what they were doing. Even though Flynn tended to argue with God rather than pray to him, here he felt… a sense of peace that he rarely got anywhere else.

When he finished and turned back, he found Wyatt and Lucy staring at him, soft looks on their faces, and his heart felt full.

They went up to the castle and walked around, and took in a play at the national theatre, took pictures at Charles Bridge, and waited until it struck noon to watch the Astronomical Clock in the old town square chime the hour. Flynn had brought his camera with him, and he took far too many pictures of Lucy in the Wallenstein gardens, where they went even though it was winter if only to take pictures of Lucy in her dark red coat, her dark hair swirling through the air, the white snow all around her like she was emerging from a fairytale.

And they found a little street off the beaten path, Novy svet, where they got food and relaxed, and Flynn could take pictures of Wyatt and Lucy drinking coffee and eating pastries, their cheeks and noses stung pink from the cold.

“I never want to leave,” Lucy admitted on their second to last day, lying in her bed. They’d booked just the one room to save money, getting two beds, and Flynn was pretty sure the workers in the lobby thought Lucy was sleeping with one of them and the other man was just the poor third wheel, although which was which according to the hotel staff, Flynn didn’t know.

“Me neither,” Wyatt agreed, curled up against Flynn, idly playing with Flynn’s fingers.

“We can come back,” Flynn said. “In spring or summer.”

“There’ll be even more tourists then,” Lucy pointed out. Winter was popular in Prague thanks to the markets and the scenery but the cold did manage to keep some would-be visitors at bay.

“But it’ll be worth it. Just think of the gardens in bloom.”

Lucy smiled at him. She was lying on her stomach, her hair all fanned out, her face half-buried in her pillow. Flynn yearned to reach out and play with her hair, to whisper his fingers over the curve of her back and shoulders, to feel that smile against his own. While here, Lucy had gotten back some of her old self, that strange distance fading away, and Flynn was grateful for it. But every year, it got harder not to give in, harder to ignore all those stupid Christmas songs and movies that said _if you can’t say it at Christmas, then when can you?_

Never, Flynn knew. He could never say it.

“With all the roses,” Lucy murmured. “I’d like that.”

“There are other places to go in Europe,” Flynn added. “We can go to all of them. Find every single castle.”

“Could we buy a castle?” Wyatt asked. He turned his face to nuzzle into the crook of Flynn’s neck and Flynn absently ran his fingers through Wyatt’s hair.

“Maybe someday,” he teased. “You want me to make it your wedding present?”

Wyatt went still against him and he heard Lucy inhale sharply.

Flynn forced himself to keep playing with Wyatt’s hair, like he hadn’t said anything particularly momentous. Yes, they were only in their early twenties. Yes, things might change. But as things changed, as he changed, as Wyatt changed, he’d learn to love Wyatt all over again. Wyatt had always been in his life, and he was always going to be. It was one of the few things that Flynn knew for certain.

Even if the rest of the world didn’t want to make their union legal, he didn’t care. Or, well, he did care, but he’d get over it. So long as Wyatt knew it was forever, that was what mattered.

Flynn could feel Wyatt and Lucy staring at each other, having an entire silent conversation. “Sure,” Wyatt said after a long moment, his voice trying to be light but instead coming out a bit strangled. “I suppose that’s almost good enough for me.”

Flynn snorted, and Lucy laughed, and he felt everything get relaxed again.

Well, now they knew. It wasn’t a proposal. That wouldn’t be for a while. But it was a hint towards his intent, and that was something.

* * *

On the day of her undergraduate graduation, she had felt elation.

On the day of her master’s degree graduation, she felt nothing but relief.

Pushing aside the inescapable fact that she was about to torture herself all over again when she started working towards her PhD, Lucy hurried to hug Mom and Amy, who had both flown over, and then Wyatt, Flynn, and Gabriel. Asher and Maria hadn’t been able to fly over, but that had been fine—she’d had Christmas in Paris with them, and that had been perfect, cozy and warm and just the six of them.

Flynn looked exhausted, having just done his graduation two days ago and taken the train in. She’d been in the middle of submitting paperwork and exams and hadn’t been able to attend, but Wyatt had filmed it all and said he’d show her.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered as she hugged Flynn. His hugs were the best, enveloping her and making her feel completely safe and cherished.

Prague had been… Prague had been good for them. Paris had been good for them. She was all right. Gabriel was right, she wasn’t a second choice or a consolation prize. And as much as it hurt her that Wyatt and Flynn wouldn’t choose her, it wasn’t because she was any less or because she deserved anything less. She was going to be fine.

And if Maria had sent her worried glances a couple of times as they’d all exchanged presents in Gabriel’s apartment, well. That was just between her and Maria, wasn’t it?

“We need pictures,” Mom said, ushering them all together. Amy rolled her eyes and Wyatt looked like he was straining something trying not to do the same, but they all squeezed in together.

Mom was… things were fine with Mom, too. Just. Fine. She had finally accepted that Lucy was going to run her life her way, and do her own thing, and make her own choices, but in exchange for that understanding she’d adopted this… pursed lip passive-aggressive disapproval of everything.

Lucy could handle that. It was better than the overbearing manipulation and the determination to control every aspect of her life. And she had a family, a family that accepted and loved her the way that family should. It wasn’t her fault that her mother couldn’t be a part of that. It was Carol Preston’s choice, not Lucy’s, just as Maria had said. Carol Preston was just going to have to get used to being on the sidelines of Lucy's life.

“Dinner’s on me,” Gabriel said, grinning at them all.

“I need to get changed first,” Lucy said. “And we promised we’d Skype Rufus.” Rufus was getting his diploma next week and there was much rejoicing on both sides of the Atlantic over it. The poor guy had some kind of breakdown when he first got to MIT, but with some support from his mentor (he still wouldn’t tell them who the guy was, there was a betting pool going between herself, Flynn, and Wyatt over it) he had managed to move past it and was now top of his game.

“I’m not sure…” Mom started, but then Gabriel said, “Oh, I know of some lovely sights that you absolutely must see, Professor.”

Mom, like everyone, was immensely charmed by Gabriel, and stopped in her tracks. “Well… I suppose…”

“Can Gabriel show us around?” Amy added, giving Mom her best _I’m an angel_ face.

Mom looked from Lucy, to Gabriel, to Amy, back to Lucy. Then she sighed. “Go on. But stay in touch.”

Mom was wary of Flynn and Wyatt, always had been. Lucy was pretty sure it was because they were together, and because Lucy had so obviously chosen them and their family over Carol. Carol Preston wasn’t the type of person to say anything to Wyatt and Flynn’s faces, but she would say things like, “of course I have nothing against them, I just don’t want their lifestyle shoved in my face,” when she saw gay couples campaigning for marriage rights or on television.

If only Mom knew that Lucy wanted to get in on all of that, she would’ve had a heart attack. Lucy almost wanted to tell her, if only because the look on her mother’s face would be absolutely priceless, a gem to be treasured forever and possibly photographed.

“We will,” Lucy promised, and then they took off for her flat.

They all piled onto Lucy’s bed, which wasn’t nearly big enough for all of them, and then Skyped Rufus first.

His face filled up the screen and they all cheered.

“Congratulations!” Rufus yelled. “We’re almost home free!”

“You’re almost home free,” Flynn interjected. “Some of us have to go get PhDs here.”

“Yes well some of us are home free, namely me, and that’s all that matters because I’m the most important.” Rufus winked at them. “Okay, but seriously, congratulations to both of you.”

“Make your mom film you,” Lucy said. “We’re so sorry we’re missing it.”

“Hey, it’s all good. You guys deserve a break. Where are you going?”

“Croatia, since Flynn hasn’t had a chance to go yet,” Wyatt said. “Asher sent us a bunch of info on the best places to go.”

“Oh my God, you have to do something about Tesla for me.”

Flynn snorted. “As if I’d miss anything about Tesla.”

Rufus pointed at him. “You. This is why you’re my favorite.” He paused. “So, uh, I should probably tell you guys I have a job lined up.”

“Already!?” Lucy shrieked as Flynn groaned with envy.

Rufus nodded. “So… my mentor’s basically promised me a job since we met when I was in high school, so long as I fulfilled my end of the bargain and pursued my education. Now that I’ve got my double master’s, he’s got a spot for me on his team working with experimental technology.”

“Sounds fancy,” Wyatt said. Wyatt was always saying that he wasn’t as smart as Lucy or Flynn, having just barely graduated from high school with his highest marks being in shop class and German, but he was the one who best understood Rufus’s engineering technobabble because Wyatt knew engines and mechanics, and Lucy and Flynn were baffled by both.

Wyatt, Lucy had found, was a great deal smarter than he thought he was.

“It is,” Rufus said. “So, uh, after I graduate next week I’m going to be working directly underneath Connor Mason. That’s my mentor. So. Ta-da.”

Silence reigned, and then Flynn said, “Holy shit, pay up, I told you.”

“You did not!” Wyatt growled, even as he dug into his wallet for Euros. “Fuck you.”

“You do fuck me. Regularly, in fact.”

“Hold on,” Rufus protested, tactfully ignoring the sex joke. “You guys had a bet going!?”

“Of course we did,” Lucy replied, also pulling money out to give to Flynn. “It’s like you don’t even know us.”

After they finished up with Rufus, Jess called. She’d decided to be an investigative reporter and was always globetrotting somewhere. She’d visited Lucy last year and they’d had a blast. Jess was funny, acerbic, quick-thinking, and down to earth.

“Where’s your mom?” Jess asked. “I don’t hear her telltale disapproving sighs.”

“Gabriel volunteered to take her and Amy out for a tour of Oxford, so we could be alone,” Lucy explained.

“Aww. Good guy, Gabriel. He’s rather earnest underneath that whole Don Juan thing he’s got going on.”

Lucy flushed a little. She hadn’t told Wyatt and Flynn about her almost-tryst with Gabriel. She was glad that she hadn’t gone through with it, because if she felt this much guilt over just kissing him, she couldn’t imagine how bad it would’ve been if she’d actually slept with him.

“Wait,” Wyatt said, and Lucy’s stomach flipped. “I know that face. That’s your ‘good orgasm’ face.”

“What!?” Flynn said.

“Did you sleep with Gabriel!?” Wyatt demanded.

Lucy’s mouth fell open as Jess, without an ounce of shame, shrugged. “You guys were off doing… something, and Gabriel was jet lagged and awake, and I was closing up the bar.” Jess had worked as a bartender on college breaks to pay her student loans. “One thing led to another, and may I say, he deserves all the bragging he does.”

The night Wyatt and Flynn had taken her to look at the meteor shower. “Oh my God,” she said out loud.

“I’m going to fling myself out the window,” Wyatt said. “My ex-girlfriend slept with my big brother.”

“Like you didn’t have a crush on him once!”

“I was fourteen!”

Flynn just put his face in his hands and groaned.

“Everything okay?” Amy asked, opening the door. “We’re back.”

“No!” Wyatt and Flynn both yelled as Jess cackled.

Lucy just grinned. This was their messy, messy family, and oh, she wouldn’t trade it, even with the heartbreak.

* * *

That Christmas, she brought Amy for the first time.

“Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Maria said, hugging Amy tightly. “Come in, come in.”

“Pity we can’t have a snowball fight rematch this year,” Lucy teased Flynn as he took her luggage.

“Oh, you mean you want to get your ass kicked a second time? Good to know.”

Lucy hugged Asher, and Gabriel, and then… “Jess? What are you doing here?”

“Keeping her hands off my brother, I hope,” Wyatt mumbled.

“More like you hope our brother is keeping his hands off of her,” Flynn replied.

“I can hear you,” Gabriel said, sipping eggnog and rolling cookie dough in the kitchen.

“Just wanted to stop by and say hi, drop off some presents for you guys.” She hugged Lucy hello. “And who’s this?”

“This is Amy, my younger sister,” Lucy said. “She’s just finished her freshman semester.”

“Charmed,” Jess said, hugging Amy hello. “What are you studying?”

“No fucking clue,” Amy replied. “But my mom would kill me if I didn’t go to college and we’ve learned to pick our battles.” As she pulled back, she squeezed Jess’s arms. “Holy shit, do you lift blocks of cement every morning?”

Jess laughed. “Oh, you’re adorable, I think I’ll keep this one.”

“That’s my baby sister,” Lucy said mildly.

“Who is now over eighteen,” Amy replied sweetly.

“How’s your book coming, Lucy?” Asher asked, because Asher was a diplomat for a living and he knew when an argument was brewing.

Lucy groaned. She was working on her first book and trying to get her PhD, and she was so panicked about her future that half the time it felt like the universe had wrapped a hand around her neck and was strangling her. Asher laughed sympathetically and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come help me with the turkey.”

“You know I’m useless in the kitchen.”

“Your presence cheers me up, and that’s help enough.”

“This is where Gabriel gets it from,” Jess commented. “Hey Flynn how come you didn’t get any of that?”

“He got his mom’s strength of will instead,” Asher replied, winking at Maria.

“Man manages to flirt with his wife while complimenting his son,” Flynn said. “Rest of the family wishes the happily married couple could calm down for two seconds.”

“I like these people,” Amy declared.

Lucy agreed.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve, and Maria found Garcia curled up in front of the Christmas tree, staring at it like it would hold the answers to life itself.

Maria sat down next to him and gently combed her fingers through his hair. “What is it, sweet boy?”

She counted herself lucky that all three of her sons refused to grow out of the stage where they accepted her affection, including pet names. It would have broken her heart clean in two if one of them had ever said that they were too grown-up for her to hug them or call them things like _honey_ and _sweetheart_.

Garcia sighed, and to her surprise, he curled right up against her side and laid his head on her shoulder. “Lucy’s off to work on her PhD.”

“Yes, she is.”

“That’ll take a while.”

“Yes, it will.”

“I don’t… I don’t want her to be away for that long.”

“You’ve got your own studies.” Maria paused, and wondered if she should say this next part. “You could always transfer. It would be a bureaucratic mess, I’m sure, but it could be done. And Wyatt will be happy to follow wherever you lead.”

Garcia nodded but didn’t say anything. For a while, they just looked at the tree.

Maria had been worried about him, about her boys and Lucy, since Garcia had first started talking about his classmate in history class, all those years ago. He was still so young, they all were, but they had been even younger back then. Baby deer taking their first tentative, wobbly steps out into the world.

“You know you were a miracle,” she said. “I didn’t think I would love again, and then your father swept into my life, and he became a father to my boy, and I loved him so, so much. And I wanted a child with him. But we tried for years, and there was nothing. I started to wonder if I was never allowed to have everything that I wanted, only some things.

“And then you came along. My darling, sweet boy. I know… I know your brother is very talented and gifted. I love him for all that he is. But you got a sweetness in you and I don’t know where it came from, but I’m grateful for it. It’s why you’re so bad at lying, I think. You’re so very much who you are, Garcia, you always have been that way. And I’m so proud of all that you’ve accomplished and how you’ve chosen to live your life, despite whatever hurdles are thrown in front of you.

“But I admit… I have never understood why you have loved that woman for so long, and so fiercely, and never said a word about it. It’s eating you up inside. I see it every day. And it kills me. Because you’re my baby, you’re my miracle, and I love you and I can’t solve this problem for you, I can’t fix it.”

Maria gently coaxed her son’s face up so that they could look each other in the eye. “Why do you suffer in silence, Garcia? You could be so happy.”

Garcia looked terrified. “I didn’t know that you knew.”

“I’m your mother. There’s nothing I don’t know about you.”

Garcia cast his gaze downward. “I didn’t think anyone would understand. Besides Wyatt, because he loves her too. But Mama…”

Maria’s heart broke a little more. It had been so long since he’d called her that.

“…she doesn’t love us. She can’t.”

The relief that she felt was so great, she nearly cried from it. “Oh, Garcia. Is that the only thing holding you back?”

“I mean… look at me, Mama, I’m a wreck. A mess. She can’t…”

“I think you will find, Garcia, that there are a great many things Lucy can do, especially things that people tell her she cannot.” Maria wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Garcia buried his face in her shoulder, his arms clinging to her. No matter how old he got, he was always going to be her baby. It was the way of mothers. “You were not made for pain. You were made for joy. Let yourself have it. Ask her. Tell her.”

“I’m scared.” It was a whisper.

“I was scared.” Maria pulled back. “Scared to love again. Scared to demand for what I knew I deserved at work. Scared for a great many things. And look what I got. You never know until you ask, Garcia.”

Garcia settled back against her side. “Can we just sit here for a while first?”

“Like when you were little and used to wait up for Santa?” Maria laughed a little. “Of course.”

She gently combed her fingers through her son’s hair and hummed _Silent Night_ , watching the Christmas tree lights glow.

* * *

Wyatt finished wrapping up the last of the leftovers and stuck them in the fridge. “We’re going to be eating turkey for days.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Asher replied, drying some dishes. He looked out the window. “Looks like Jess is taking Amy out to look at the Christmas lights.”

“Look at Christmas lights, sure, that’s what they’re doing,” Wyatt replied. “Where’re the others?”

“Lucy’s in the shower, Gabriel went to bed, Garcia and your mother are in the living room.”

 _Your mother_. Asher had never asked anything of Wyatt, not his affection or his respect, yet he had acknowledged the entire way that Maria had welcomed and loved Wyatt as her own.

Wyatt started putting away the dishes that Asher had dried. “I know it’s not my place,” Asher said quietly, “but I know a little something of loving someone it seems impossible to have. And I want to know, after you and Garcia overcame so much to be together, how it is that you’re letting yourselves suffer instead of just asking Lucy to be with you.”

Wyatt nearly dropped the plate he was holding. “Uh…”

Asher got a fond smile on his face. “You can’t think that we don’t all know.”

“I did think that, yeah.” Wyatt sheepishly put the plate away. “Does Lucy know?”

“I doubt she would’ve let this situation continue if she knew you two loved her back.”

“…loved her back?” Wyatt snorted this time. “Lucy doesn’t—not like that.”

“Given that the last time you dated a woman you were fifteen and I’ve been married to one for several decades now, Wyatt, let’s pretend I know more about women than you do for a moment.”

Wyatt laughed. “Sure, Pops, we can do that.”

The bowl Asher had been drying clattered into the sink, but thankfully didn’t break. Wyatt froze, and Asher carefully cleared his throat. “Lucy loves you two. There’s a reason every other relationship she’s tried hasn’t worked and why she hasn’t done all that much trying in the first place.”

Wyatt had never considered that. “But what if we say something and we’re wrong and we’ve ruined everything?”

“Isn’t having an answer better than this purgatory you’ve been in for, what, seven years now?”

That was a fair point. Wyatt put away some more dishes, and silence fell. In the living room, he could hear Maria humming _Silent Night_.

Asher suddenly put down his dishes. “Indulge me for a moment.”

“In what?” Wyatt asked, and then he was being pulled into a tight, fierce hug.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around Asher automatically, startled. He could count on one hand the amount of times they’d hugged.

The hug lasted a while, and when Asher pulled back, Wyatt could see that his eyes were a bit wet. “I know we don’t talk about it. And I understand if it’s something that’s too painful for you to ever talk about. I’ll be whatever you need me to be for you. But my wife isn’t the only one who considers herself to have three sons.”

Wyatt found that his eyes were wet, to, and he hugged Asher again, more tightly this time. “I, uh, I would call my grandfather ‘Pops’,” he admitted.

He felt Asher nod.

They hugged for a long, long time.

* * *

Lucy emerged into the living room, wearing a robe, freshly showered and feeling ready to just relax and cuddle. “Amy and Jess still out?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Wyatt replied. He was sprawled out on the couch with Flynn.

“Mom and Papa went to bed, by the way,” Flynn said. “They said to tell you goodnight.”

“Oh, but we’re waiting up for Santa?” Lucy replied, inserting herself on the couch with them.

Flynn snorted.

Lucy wiggled in until she could take Flynn’s arm and drape it over her waist, one leg slung over Wyatt’s, Wyatt himself half on top of her, her head tucked under Flynn’s chin.

She loved them. She loved them so, so much. She’d loved them for years, for so long that she forgot what it was like to live without loving them.

“I don’t want you guys to go,” she admitted softly.

The idea of months without them was like seeing the world without color. Everything was just dull and grey and sad.

Flynn shifted, and she couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the nervousness in his voice as he said, just as softly, “What if we didn’t go?”

Lucy propped herself up so that she could look at him. “What do you mean?”

Flynn and Wyatt exchanged a glance over her shoulder. After knowing each other for so long, they could have entire conversations with a single look.

“It means,” Flynn said slowly, carefully, “that I’m asking if… if you’d like it if… if Wyatt and I were with you. If I got my PhD at the same place as you. If we were in the same place.”

Lucy almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

“It wouldn’t be for you,” Wyatt said. “Or not—not just for you. But for us, too. We… we want to… be with you.”

Those three words had a lot of implication. She twisted to look over her shoulder at Wyatt. “Be with me?” _They just mean be where you are, that’s all, that’s all…_

Flynn’s hand came up and gently turned her chin so that she was looking at him again. His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth. “With you,” he repeated. His eyes were dark and warm, his gaze heavy on her. She could see the lights from the Christmas tree in his eyes, making them look like miniature galaxies.

Lucy found she couldn’t breathe. “You want to be with me.”

In answer, Flynn leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

It was the softest kiss she’d ever had.

Flynn pulled back, and she saw the hesitance in his eyes, the fear, and realized with a bit of hysteria that this whole time while she’d been terrified of them finding out she loved them, they had been terrified of her finding out they loved her in return.

Lucy gently brought her hands up to cup Flynn’s face. “We’ve been fools, haven’t we?” she whispered.

She felt a delicate, tentative kiss to her shoulder and turned to see Wyatt staring at her with a solemnness he rarely possessed. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

Lucy kept Flynn’s face in her hands as she leaned into Wyatt and kissed him, their hands at her waist holding her steady so none of them fell off the couch, his lips working sweetly against hers. Then she pulled back and turned, kissing Flynn again, this time for longer, and with more heat to it.

She pulled back again, this time with a hand to the back of both of their heads, and gently pulled them in.

They each caught a corner of her mouth, and then it shifted, Flynn pressing fully onto Wyatt, and Lucy watched, heat stoked up low in her gut as the two of them kissed with the heat and familiarity of long-practiced lovers.

Again, again, again, swapping places, kissing back and forth between the three of them, it made her lose track of time and space. Their hands were all over, not seeking or groping, just steadying, and Lucy felt a little buzzed, a little punch drunk, happy in this space but also wanting more.

Wyatt nearly fell off the couch, and she felt that was a sign they needed to move this forward. “Come here.”

She gently guided him to the floor, falling with him, straddling him, and kissed him again as she rolled her hips in a slow, long grind. Wyatt trembled underneath her, following her lead, and oh, she liked that. She had never discussed much of Wyatt and Flynn’s sex lives with them, since that was just a special kind of masochism that even she couldn’t achieve, but she did know enough to know that Wyatt was the submissive one. She could feel that now in the way that he shook, the way he let her take over the kiss.

“There’s a joke about that one Mariah Carey song in here somewhere,” Flynn noted as she felt his hands slide up her back. “All I want for Christmas is you and all that.”

“If you make that joke I’m not gonna let you fuck me,” Wyatt groaned.

Flynn’s hands were exploratory, but still a bit tentative, and oh, Lucy remembered, he had never been with a woman. Only with Wyatt.

She took his wrist and undid her robe, sliding his hand underneath, between her legs to where she was getting sticky and wet. “Here, like this,” she whispered, their fingers intertwining, as she showed him where and how to stroke herself.

Wyatt helped to get her robe off the rest of the way, and her nightgown underneath, as Flynn learned how to touch her. He figured out that slow swipes over her clit had her jerking in his touch, and that hard fast little flicks had her making small desperate noises in the back of her throat. Wyatt’s hands stroked up and down her thighs as he sat up, nosing at her breasts, his mouth hot and sweat around her nipples as Flynn kissed down her neck and the slope of her shoulder.

They were inexperienced with women, perhaps, but her body was still a body, still similar enough, and they were both excellent learners.

Lucy pushed a finger inside of herself, and Flynn followed with a finger of his own, the two of them pumping leisurely in and out of her. She was desperate to have them, wanted to fuck them both hard and fast until she was dizzy with it and they were coming so violently she couldn’t walk for a week. But that didn’t feel right for tonight. The fire was going, the Christmas tree was all lit up, it was cold and dark outside, and the house was asleep. A hush had fallen over the world, and for this time, this first time, she was going to savor all of it.

“Keep going,” she instructed, pulling her fingers away and letting Flynn take over.

Wyatt moaned a little as her hands scratched down his chest. “You’re both so fucking hot, you have no idea,” he admitted, staring at them with eyes that had only the thinnest ring of burning blue now, the rest swallowed up by blackness.

“What do you want?” Lucy asked. “How do you…”

“Anything,” Wyatt said, as Flynn began to rub in concentrated circles over her clit and slid three fingers into her. “Anything, Luce, fuck.”

Her legs started to shake and she fell back against Flynn as he thrust hard into her, his thumb never once leaving her clit, and stars danced in front of her eyes as she came.

“Jesus,” Wyatt said hoarsely.

“It’s his birthday,” Flynn noted.

Lucy elbowed him in the ribs. “I want you both naked.”

Both men hastened to comply.

She pressed Wyatt back down onto the floor. She’d start with him, give him a little taste. Later on she wanted to watch Flynn fuck him, wanted to tease Wyatt properly, but that would be another time. For now she was only going to tease him a little.

Normally she would demand a condom, but, well, Wyatt and Flynn had only ever been with each other, she was healthy, and she was on birth control. She wasn’t about to go rifling through Amy’s things to see if her sister had brought something or, God forbid, go looking through Gabriel’s room.

Wyatt went cross-eyed as she sank down onto him. “Holy—shit, fucking—warn a guy, Lucy, holy mother of Christ.”

“You did this with Jess, didn’t you?” Lucy pointed out.

“Ten years ago, and we never—not this far—oh my God,” Wyatt babbled, struggling to stay still as she thrust down onto him. God, yes, he was filling her up nicely, getting her even wetter. From this angle he could get good and deep, and it felt like sparks were going off in her toes and fingertips.

And then she pulled off.

Wyatt whined and Lucy shifted back, tugging at Flynn, who had been watching the whole thing with a kind of slack-jawed arousal like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. “I want you inside me.”

Flynn made a broken groaning sort of noise and let himself be guided into her, and Lucy—Lucy gasped as she felt him. Oh, fuck, he was thick.

“Yeah,” Wyatt said, a smirk on his face as he watched her. “He’s real big.”

“Wyatt sometimes wonders if I’ll fit,” Flynn admitted. His voice was low and filthy in a way that she’d never heard from him before, and it made a spike of pleasure hit her so hard she nearly fell over. “He likes it that way.”

He slid in slowly, bit by bit, until it felt like he was going to hit the back of her throat. Lucy dug her nails into Wyatt’s arm and chest, panting, her vision blurry. When Flynn bottomed out his forehead dropped to the back of her shoulder blade, and he groaned.

“You need a minute?” Wyatt asked her, petting her.

Lucy nodded. She hadn’t had sex with another person since Noah, and dildos were always different from the real thing.

In the meantime, she guided Wyatt over so that he was kneeling in front of her and licked up his cock. Wyatt swore and Flynn chuckled.

“I’ve never really gotten to see his face while I blow him,” Flynn mused. “This will be fun.”

“I fucking hate you both,” Wyatt said, and then he wasn’t saying anything other than desperate little whimpers because Lucy had swallowed his cock.

It had been a while since she’d done this, too, but it was rather like riding a bike: once you learned, you didn’t really forget. Wyatt tangled his fingers in her hair but didn’t tug or thrust into her mouth.

“He’s well trained,” Flynn explained, kissing along Lucy’s spine.

Lucy hummed, and Wyatt made a choking noise. He was deliciously vocal, swearing when she pressed her tongue to the underside of the head and rubbed, moaning when she rolled his balls in her hand, and outright begging when she sank down all the way and then slowly drew her head back until just the tip of his cock was in her mouth.

“God, you look so fucking pretty,” Flynn said softly. His cock was twitching and jerking inside of her in response to what he saw her doing to Wyatt, and it was driving her wild.

And then Flynn kept talking. “You like me staring at you like this? Hmm? You’re so desperate. So greedy. That’s it, c’mon, I want to see you lose it.”

She could feel that Wyatt was close, and constricted her throat, swallowing a few times.

Wyatt dug his fingers into her scalp. “Lucy—Lucy—”

She didn’t pull off, and Wyatt whimpered helplessly. “Gar-Garcia, Garcia, oh my God, Lucy, Garcia…”

She couldn’t see, but she felt Flynn reach over to Wyatt and do something that made Wyatt outright sob, and then he was coming hot down her throat.

Lucy pulled back, and saw that Flynn had his hand around Wyatt’s neck, just under his chin, pressing down.

A hot thrill shot through her. She wanted to choke Wyatt, to watch him being choked—and to get the same treatment herself.

“Fuck me,” she blurted out. “Fuck me, Garcia, please…”

Flynn made a noise like she had cut the ropes that had been binding him and he thrust into her, making her nearly yelp, and she bit down on the sound just in time. She’d die of mortification if Maria and Asher, or Gabriel, or all three, woke up and found them like this.

Once he started it was like he couldn’t stop, and Flynn kept fucking her, thrusting deep and steady, his hand wrapping around to try and find her clit again. It did take him a minute, but when he found it Lucy’s legs nearly gave out and Wyatt had to kiss her to keep her quiet.

Flynn found just the right angle inside of her and it was like someone had dragged her entire body against an electric fence. She screamed into Wyatt’s mouth, biting down hard on his lip, causing Wyatt to grunt. Flynn’s hands shifted on her hips and he hit that angle again, again, again, until Lucy felt like she was being fucked in half, torn open, into pieces, leaving nothing of her but stardust.

She wasn’t sure who came first, her or Flynn, or if one triggered the other, but it was pretty damn close—and she was too busy floating in the stratosphere from her orgasm to care.

They all collapsed in a tangle of limbs, sweaty, panting, still clinging to each other.

“Can we just sleep here for the night?” Wyatt murmured, and Lucy laughed tiredly. She had no objections to it.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have, because she woke up to find herself sandwiched in between the two men on the floor, a blanket pulled over them, their arms around her.

“Oh my God,” Amy was whispering softly.

Lucy opened her eyes and tilted her head up. Amy grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up.

Lucy was too tired to even respond. She just snuggled further into her boys—her boys, _her_ boys, her boys for life, for real, forever—and closed her eyes again.

“Merry Christmas,” Flynn mumbled drowsily in her ear as Wyatt unconsciously nuzzled her, still dead asleep.

“Merry Christmas,” Lucy replied, finding his fingers and interlocking them with hers, squeezing his hand.

She was still unsure about her PhD, her book, her future. But the universe was no longer squeezing her, compacting her, making her unable to breathe like a car plunged into a river.

Instead it had opened, gentled, softened.

There were all those films that said that Christmas was a time when the world remembered love and joy, when it got a little kinder, when things you hadn’t hoped could happen actually managed to come true.

Well. It had taken nearly eight damn years, but at last, that was holding true.

…although if Amy was snapping pictures right now, Lucy knew somebody who was gonna get a lot of fucking coal in her stocking.

* * *

Maria relaxed against her husband’s chest as he stroked through her hair. “Do you think we don’t know what they’re up to down there?” she asked.

“Probably,” Asher replied.

Maria made a mental note to stay in bed tomorrow to give the three kids time to wake up and make themselves presentable, sparing everyone some embarrassment.

“I’m glad,” she said quietly. “I was worried.”

“I know.” Asher kissed the top of her head. “But it worked out. You raised them well.”

Maria looked up at him, plagued by a sudden bout of insecurity—rare, for her, but still, they came sometimes. “Are you sure?”

“ _Moja draga_ , I have never been surer about anything,” Asher promised her.

Maria kissed him, and felt her heart swelling three sizes.

“ _Sretan Božić_ ,” Asher murmured against her lips.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Maria replied.

And to all a good night.


End file.
